Godwar Part 3: Prologue: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results
by Nitebreaker
Summary: The Entity and Typhon's war is far from over, and the Titans may find themselves between the proverbial Devil and the Deep Blue Sea. But which is which? Is death the worst thing that can happen? Relationships may well find themselves tested to destruction-and beyond. When Gods go to war, only one thing is certain: nothing will ever be the same. Sequel to "Godwar Part 2."
1. Chapter 1

_Okay, people. Here we go. Something tells me this won't be over in just a few chapters, but even I don't know exactly how it's going to turn out. This one's a work in progress, so I can't promise weekly installments, nor the size of such installments, so, if you would, bear with me. Hope you enjoy it! R&amp;R, please!_

_I don't own the Teen Titans._

"_Then's the time Obed he begun a-cursin' at the folks fer bein' dull sheep an' prayin' to a Christian heaven as didn't help 'em none. He told 'em he'd knowed of folks as prayed to gods that give somethin' ye reely need….them as didn't know what 'twas all abaout got kind o' swayed by what Obed had to say, an' begun to ast him what he cud do to set 'em on the way to the faith as ud bring 'em results." _

"The Shadow Over Innsmouth"

-H. P. Lovecraft

Godwar, Part 3

"The Faith That Would Bring Them Results."

Chapter 1: Faith

Raven stood at the plate glass windows on the upper story of Titans' Tower, looking out at the storm clouds moving across the sky. The storm hadn't broken yet, but she expected it to, at any time.

Her supernatural senses were telling her a different storm was about to break, one that would be a good deal more devastating than any in the history of man. And, to make matters worse, she didn't have a clue as to what to do about it.

Of course, the others didn't have any idea about how things were shaping up. And, in truth, she wasn't completely sure herself. It wasn't as though she could see the future, see exactly what would happen, or the exact events that were about to transpire. But she could feel the buildup of energies, see, after a fashion, the general direction the timeline was headed in.

And, after a certain point in that timeline, she saw…nothing.

That didn't mean there was nothing there to see, she hastily amended, there, to herself, watching the physical storm brew outside. Only that she couldn't see it. The ability to foresee the future—even in such a limited extent—is often vague and mostly unhelpful. After all, if it were anything more specific, she thought, with a wry smile, she could have made a fortune in the stock market. Or Las Vegas.

_**{{Daughter.}}**_

Raven started and looked around, even as she realized the uselessness of the gesture. There was only one being in all creation who'd contact her telepathically and call her "daughter."

Raven rubbed her face. So. The Entity hadn't been lying when it said _he_ was still alive. {{Don't call me that. Go away.}}

_**{{No. Not until you've heard what I have to say.}}**_

{{You've nothing to say that I could possibly want to hear.}}

_**{{So unforgiving. It almost makes me proud. But surely you realize that I would not contact you in this manner, nor reveal an existence you were previously in doubt of, for any trivial reason.}}**_

She had to give him that. Trigon, the demon lord who'd sired her, had never really communicated with her, except for his using of her as a living portal into the world of humans. That he would do so now indicated something of considerable import.

{{Alright, you've got my attention. Say what you have to say.}}

_**{{I know you have been in contact with the being you call "The Entity." I would warn you about him, and about the one called Typhon. Their battle is far from over.}}**_

{{I hate to burst your bubble,}} she replied, in a mental "tone of voice" that said just the opposite, {{But I've known that for some time.}}

_**{{Of that, I've little doubt. But I think you are unaware of just how much their war can cost you, what the effects of it can be upon you, and yours.}}**_

{{And those effects are…?}}

_**{{You yet retain too much mortality to fully comprehend the scope of their actions. But this much I say, that you can comprehend: to you and your friends, I extend the offer of sanctuary, here in my domain.}}**_

Raven thought about that, for a moment. Then she began to chortle. The chortle turned into a full-throated laugh. She found herself leaning against the reinforced glass of the Tower's windows to keep from rolling on the floor.

_**{{Something amuses you, daughter?}}**_

Raven mastered herself, wiping tears away from her face. {{Perhaps you don't see the irony. Sanctuary, in Hell. It's a bit like the Pacific ocean offering to keep a bar of soap safe from water.}}

_**{{You believe there is no fate worse than confinement within my domain. But there is, daughter. There is.}}**_ And with that, Raven felt Trigon's presence fade from her mind.

She pondered. _Could_ there be something worse than Hell? She couldn't conceive of any, but that didn't mean there weren't any, of course. And she'd seen enough of creation to know that there was always something one hadn't thought of. Usually just around the corner.

"There you are, Raven," said Hank, just rounding the corner of the circular hallway. "Been looking for you. I've got the latest duty rosters for you to go over, as well as a whole telephone book of forms you need to sign."

Raven sighed. Not long ago, Robin had made good on his promise to marry Starfire, and the two were even now honeymooning on Tameran. And, in typical Robin style, he'd left her in charge, much against her will. Very much.

And the old saying about not judging someone until you'd walked a mile in their shoes had been proven with a vengeance. Raven hadn't realized just how much _paperwork_ was involved in just keeping things running, before now.

The conference room was nearest, so they retired there to sort out the messages. There was a hypertransmission video from Robin and Starfire, showing them at a beach on Tameran. Although Starfire looked jubilant (indeed, for her, that was not all that unusual), Raven had to smile at the expression of discomfort on Robin's face. Tameraneans don't have the practice of wearing swimsuits, so every beach there was a nude beach. _Some guys would kill to have a problem like that,_ she thought, even while signing form after form after form. "What are all these, anyway? I don't recall previous times being this…complicated."

Hank shrugged. "You know Robin. The original control freak. Speaking of whom…" He produced a form from under all the others, and gave it to Raven to read. Her jaw dropped as she glanced over the document.

"What? I don't believe this. _Control Freak_ wants to be a _Teen Titan?_"

"Yep. Seems he's served his time, and now actually wants to join up. Maybe he feels, like, if you can't beat 'em… And that's not all." He produced another such application. "Seems Billy Numerous also wants to join."

"Billy Numerous. A Teen Titan." Raven mused over the words. "In a way, I can see Numerous' powers coming in handy….but I don't know about Control Freak. I mean, aside from his remote, he doesn't have any powers of his own, does he?"

"None that I know of. Unless that 'training' he took in that TV show he dragged everyone into a few years back actually carried over into the real world. But even if he doesn't, you have to admit, his mastery of the technology that he used to create that remote is…impressive. Even Cyborg can't duplicate it, and I heard through sources that Gizmo's tried and failed."

Raven shook her head. "It's just…somehow I never thought I'd see the day when these two, especially these two, would actually apply for membership in the group they've previously fought."

"Well, you know." Hank had brought a cup of coffee over to the table. Now he took a sip. "People do change. Prime examples: Kitten and Blackfire. Of course, if you—we—accept them, they'll still bear watching."

"Of course." Raven was still looking over the applications, almost in shock. "Especially Control Freak. If he's as tech-savvy as all that, we really couldn't let him have unlimited access to the Tower's computer system." _On the other hand,_ she found herself thinking, _exactly how would we keep him out?_

"So. What's the verdict?"

She shook her head. "None, yet. I'll look these over, and give the wardens at the prisons where they were a call. I'm not going off half-cocked. And, of course, even assuming they are approved for candidacy, it would still have to come to a vote."

He nodded. "Sounds fair. Oh, something else, something you asked me to remind you of: Nemesis and Deena are dropping by for a visit tomorrow."

She groaned, and face-palmed her forehead. "That's right. I'd forgotten all about that. What time are they expected to arrive?"

…

Raven and Angelique were on the roof of the Tower, actually at the Titans' helipad, when the boom tube opened up just overhead, disgorging Nemesis, known to her as Jasson, and his charge, the little Osiran girl Deena. "Raven! So good to see you again!" He shook her hand, then drew her into a hug. Raven wasn't normally a hugger, but this was her "little brother," from an alternate timeline she'd visited once. After the death of his mother and sister, Raven had found herself inadvertently filling the emotional void left by their absence, and the twelve-year old Jasson had come to regard her as his sister. Since time passed differently there than here, the next time she saw him, during the invasion of Apokolips, he'd grown up (at nearly seven feet tall, he definitely wasn't "little" anymore), and, as a disciple of the Entity, whom he revered as God, become the massively-muscled powerhouse he now was. The Entity had prepared him especially to battle Darkseid, and to act as his agent in mortal affairs, granting him might almost beyond human comprehension. Normally, he approximated Kryptonian or Osiran level, in terms of strength and power, but when channeling the energies of his God, there was no real upper limit to what he could do.

"Good to see you, too, Jasson." She extricated herself from his embrace, and turned to Deena. "Hello again, Deena." She held out her arms, and the child came into them.

Deena was the product of the union between two Osiran warriors whom she'd met during her sojourn in Jasson's world, warriors who were that world's version of this world's Omega and Athena. Raven hadn't known, when she left, that the female warrior had been with child. But now, seeing the little girl, she couldn't help but feel a slight hitch in her breath: the child looked so much like her parents, her friends….both of whom were dead.

Jasson turned to Angelique. "And you must be Angelique. I've heard a lot of good things about you."

"Yes, sir." Unsure as to what else to say, Angelique turned to Deena, Linking with her via the Osirans' built-in telepathy. {{Hey, Deena. Wanna go play?}} Wordlessly, even in Link, Deena nodded, her eyes shining.

After they'd left, Jasson turned to Raven. "Well. I heard about your promotion. Congratulations."

Raven rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. I never wanted this job, and I still really don't. But nobody else seems willing to step forward and take it, so I guess I'm stuck with it."

He chuckled. "The Curse of Authority. Could be worse, Raven. At least this way, you don't have to worry about anybody over you giving you grief."

"No, I'm the one that has to _give_ the grief. Not sure which I prefer."

"What's the ancient proverb? More blessed to give than to receive? Well, anyway. Say. Where's Hank?" Nemesis looked around.

"Hank? You know about Hank?"

"Of course. The Master briefed me quite thoroughly on all these things before I arrived. He likes Hank, you know. And, in my book, that speaks pretty highly of Hank. I was hoping I'd get the chance to meet him."

"Well, he was called away on an errand. Some family business he had to attend to. You know, we're at partial strength right now. Four of our members recently got married, and while one couple is back from their honeymoon, they've mostly stuck to their new house in the Rocky Mountains, in Colorado." While speaking, the two had moved downstairs, into the main sitting room. Raven busied herself in the kitchen, feeling the need to be a "good hostess." "Would you like something? We've some superb grapes flown in from—Great Azar, how'd _that_ get in here? And what _is_ it, anyway?" She was staring at some sort of shapeless….something….that lay up against the back of the fridge. Jasson joined her, and from his puzzled expression, he didn't know what it was, either. "It's not moving, is it?"

"I—I don't think so." She straightened up. "I'm tempted to zap it, just to be safe, but for all I know, it might be one of Starfire's home delicacies. And Terra seems to love her food. So until I know what it is, I guess I'll just leave it alone. And hope it hasn't contaminated anything else in the fridge." She frowned in thought for a moment. "Maybe I should put a lock on the door, just to make sure it doesn't get out."

Jasson stood back, rubbing his hands together. "Tell you what. How does lunch sound? On me."

"Uhm, sure. You've got money? I can get this, if you'd like…."

"No, no. The Master made sure I had everything I'd need before I came over here. So. Where to?"

…..

Soon the pair found themselves drawing a certain amount of attention at the local McDonald's. Not only did pale, grey-skinned Raven get her share of stares, the red-haired giant next to her also drew some looks, many of which, Raven noted, with some amusement, were appreciative appraisals from various females in the restaurant.

But fast food was a new experience for Jasson, since the civilization on the world he now called home, the rejuvenated worldlet of New Calador, had not yet progressed to the point where such were commonplace. The whole concept of _chicken nuggets_ completely puzzled him, amusing Raven a bit more. She had to reassure him that they weren't anything nasty.

But finally they got their orders, and were seated in a booth over by the window. "So tell me, Jasson. What's been going on in your life? Fill me in on what happened after I left," she said, while mixing up her salad dressing.

"Oh, goodness. Where to start? You know, after you left, there was a war, right?"

"No. I'm not surprised, however, what with what the female warrior told me."

"Yeah." He fumbled with his sauce cup, opening it, and dunked one end of a chicken nugget into it. "Hm. Pretty good. Don't know exactly what I was expecting, but this is…good.

"Yeah, there was a war. The greater Lords had mostly been killed off by the singularity bomb the other warrior set off, but there were still others. But surprisingly enough, not all of them fought us. A few, a very few, but a few, saw things from a different perspective. They saw that this whole business of making people do their jobs for nothing wasn't gonna last, so some of them actually sided with us. Not many. But some. And every little bit helped."

"What about Deena's mother?"

His countenance fell, just a little. "She was killed in battle. Deena hatched shortly thereafter. So really, Deena's never known her true—*"

"Wait." She reached over and put her hand on his arm. "Did you say, '_hatched'_?"

"Yeah. Turns out Osirans can reproduce in two different ways: one, live birth, same as us, or two, the females can, in times of uncertainty, or whenever they choose to—I have to admit, I don't really understand all that much about that-, actually lay eggs, which can then be tended by someone else, or by machines, for that matter." He shrugged, downing another nugget. "I suppose it's efficient. It gets the warrior back into active duty faster. But that's why Deena looks so small for her age."

"Her age? How old is she?"

"She's nine. But you probably noticed she looks smaller, like about six or so. That's why: Osirans who hatch are usually somewhat underweight compared to those who, er, come out the other way."

Raven chewed and thought about that. Yeah, that did make a lot of sense, considering what she knew about Osiran warriors, born and bred for war. Well, anyway…. "So you raised her by yourself?"

"Yes. As I said, she never knew either of her parents, so she naturally came to see me as, well, not a father figure, 'cause I always told her I was her brother, but, well, I guess as the only family she's ever known." He grinned at a sudden remembrance. "Even an Osiran infant is pretty strong. I remember helping her out of her shell, and she latched onto my finger. I thought she was gonna break it off or something."

"Jasson, that was…a lot of responsibility for you." Her admiration for him grew a notch or two. Basically, when he was barely a teenager, he'd had to become a single "dad," and in the middle of a war, to boot. Make that three notches.

Shrug. "I adapted. I had to. The war was in full swing, with what few Lords who sided with us working behind the scenes to undo the conditioning on the humans—and the warriors and Thinkers, too. It was an uphill battle. In many cases, we were heavily outgunned.

"It was shortly after Deena's mom's death that the Master contacted me. Told me who and what he was, what he needed, and what he wanted me to do." Pause. "He gifted me with these powers, but with those powers came the responsibility to use them wisely, and in his service. It," again a pause, while he looked far off, "it wasn't an easy task. It _was_ a lot of responsibility. But someone had to do it." He'd finished his chicken nuggets and started on his ice cream. That, too, was, well, not entirely a new experience for him, but one he didn't get that often.

Raven sucked absently on her diet coke. "Well, tell me a little about how _you've_ been. I know it hasn't been easy on you, but, well, I guess what I'm asking is, what about you, what about your life, socially speaking?"

He smiled and shook his head. "'Fraid that's zip. No time. Between caring for Deena, the war, and training every day for my eventual fight with Darkseid, I really didn't have much time for any kind of social life. Now I've still got no time, what with being the Master's agent on New Calador, raising Deena, plus my duties back on Earth. _My_ Earth, I mean. The planet I was born on. So, no. Nothing going on in that department. Just as well. I don't miss it." _Besides, none of the girls I ever met could even begin to measure up to you._

Raven almost choked on her soda. The thought, or, more accurately, the wordless _feeling_, had come across clearly and distinctly; there was no possibility of a mistake. Jasson?

But he continued to eat his McFlurry, completely unaware of any surprise on her part.

Of course, she knew how the process worked. A thought goes around and around in your head to the point where thinking it becomes sheer reflex, and you don't _think_ about thinking it, much like a mannerism or gesture becoming so ingrained that you don't even notice you're doing it. But other people do.

Had Jasson been carrying a torch for her, all these years? But no, a very careful, very guarded probe revealed nothing of that nature. She could sense no feelings of unrequited passion; he simply thought of her as head and shoulders above anyone else in his experience.

"Raven? You alright?"

"Huh? Oh, yes. I'm fine. Er, why do you ask?"

"Well, your face turned kinda red. Just wondered. Say, you know what would be great? You should come visit us on New Calador sometime. I'm sure the Master could arrange it."

Raven thought. In truth, she was a bit curious about the new world the Entity had created especially for the liberated lowlies he'd rescued from Apokolips. She'd often wondered how they were faring.

But she shook her head. "I don't think I'd have the time, Jasson. Running the Titans takes a lot more than I previously thought. And then, there are….other matters." She was thinking of the impending more-than-physical storm, and the effects it would have on the world of Earth. Earth would probably need every superhuman available just to cope.

"But you'd love it there. And you wouldn't have to stay long…I'd just like to give you a tour of the place. We're still mostly an agrarian society, but that's working out really well for us. We're not to the numbers where we have any really big cities, certainly nothing like this." He gestured to the surrounding city, outside the cafeteria.

"A peaceful country lifestyle?" Raven smiled, thinking about it. It certainly sounded tempting…"Well, perhaps I could manage a couple of days away from here. It might be nice to take a bit of a break, to be somewhere where I wasn't in the spotlight so much. Here, I can't even turn around without someone noticing me, sometimes wanting an autograph, but most of the time wanting to complain about their shop being destroyed in the last supervillain battle."

"Er, wellllllll," he dithered, "Much as I'd love to show you the place—and I really really would—honesty forces me to admit: if you really want to avoid the limelight, New Calador might not be the place for you."

"Why is that?" What did he mean?

In response, he pulled out a small locket from a vest pocket of his blue and white uniform, and handed it to her. She opened it….and gasped in surprise.

Because inside the locket was a stylized bas-relief picture of _her_, in a relaxed, almost dancing pose, hands to either side of her, eyes closed, a gentle smile on her face, with dark-plumaged birds flying over her head in a graceful arc, between her upturned palms. "Jasson, what-*" While obviously handmade, the picture had the look of something designed to be produced in great quantities. "What…?"

"You mean, the Master never told you?" Wordlessly, she shook her head. He leaned forward on the table. "Everybody on New Calador knows how you went head to head against Darkseid himself, to buy the Master time to evacuate them all to safety. They regard you as their savior, or, or patron saint, at least. Their hero. Their protector. Raven, they practically _worship_ you." It was true, she thought numbly. The picture had the iconic look of a religious or quasi-religious artifact.

Practically in shock, she thought of the irony of it: when she'd gone to fight and forestall Darkseid, in order for the rest of the team to escape, he'd mockingly offered to make her a goddess, his equal, stating that, from Apokolips' throne room, she could keep others from coming to harm, could protect them from those who would exploit them. She'd seen through his warped sense of humor…but by doing so, she'd apparently earned the very thing he'd facetiously offered.

_Totally_ unexpected. "Please don't tell me they've built shrines to me." She glanced again at the icon.

He looked away, a look of mischievous guilt on his face. "Wellllll, okay, since you asked, I won't, but….." She could read the rest of the sentence even without him speaking it aloud. "Azar help me," she murmured, hiding her face in her hands.

…..

Another time zone: Terra Markov, now Terra Logan, lay beside her husband, watching him while he slept. It had been a busy night, and young as she was, she was still a little tired.

Their new house was her dream house come true: state of the art construction, utilizing many of the features found in Slade's lair, now the Titans' alternate HQ, in order to make it as trouble-free and self-maintaining as possible. Of course, some things still had to be done by hand, but those were nothing she wasn't prepared for.

One thing the nearly sentient house _couldn't_ do, however, was something she and Gar were endeavoring to accomplish: they wanted children. So far, they'd been unsuccessful, but Terra wasn't overly concerned about that just yet.

But something was keeping her awake at times when she wished she could rest. Something called guilt.

Terra had deliberately left out certain parts of her past to Gar, and he'd never pressed the issue, sensing something she wasn't comfortable talking about yet. One thing, of course, and one he knew about—sorta—was her relationship with the now-deceased Slade Wilson. He knew they'd been intimate at some point, but he'd overlooked it, forgiven her for it, and loved her anyway. That had just solidified her love for him all the more. But there were other things he didn't know about, didn't have a clue about, and she worried that, should he find out about them, that he might feel…differently. And….she was afraid.

When she was twelve years old, Terra Markov, the illegitimate child of the king of the small country of Markovia, had been exiled from the land of her birth. Her father had given her some money, and essentially told her never to return to his land. And the child she'd been had begun to learn some very hard lessons, lessons no twelve year old should have to learn first-hand.

Before, money had not really been a concern for her. While her father didn't dote on her, he nonetheless saw to it that she had everything she needed, and a great many things she just wanted. And she had a roof over her head, and a certain amount of security. But all that disappeared when she was exiled. And she was confronted by the harsh reality: if you don't have money, nobody wants you around.

For a while, it hadn't been so bad. She hadn't been forced to beg on the streets or anything. She'd even managed to get a couple of odd jobs, sometimes something like baby—or animal—sitting, or even housekeeping, and had proved herself trustworthy and reliable enough that she was able to make a little money. But it was so very little. This went on for a couple of years, and all the while, she kept her true identity a secret. Even as young and inexperienced as she was, she knew there were people who wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of her, if she were ever to become linked to anyone of status.

But there had come a time when there was just no money at all. Nobody would hire her, her powers were too unpredictable to make use of them, and she had been forced to scrounge around in dumpsters just to survive.

More than once, she'd thought about trying to get in touch with Brion, her half-brother. He'd always taken care of her, even when they were little, and she knew he would now. But she couldn't figure out how to go about doing that without alerting the Markovian king, and she was certain he'd nix anything Brion would try to do for her. Brion might even get into trouble for it, and she definitely didn't want that.

So the time had come, when, sitting all alone, hunger gnawing at her ribcage, freezing cold in an alleyway in Berlin, that she'd made up her mind to do what she had to do. There was just no other choice.

So she'd taken some of her best garments (though none of them were really all that good), and carefully ripped them in strategic places. Applied makeup to her face until it felt like it was an inch thick. Then, she'd taken up a station on a nearby street corner, keeping close to the shadows, so that she could duck back in should a police car appear. And she waited.

She didn't have to wait long. A long, black limousine had pulled up, and the rear passenger window came down. After a bit of negotiation, she—very reluctantly—got in, and went with the man to a nearby hotel.

While "freshening up" in the room's bathroom, she'd gotten a good look at herself. She barely recognized her own reflection. _Haunted_ was a good term for the way she looked. She was about to go out there and have sex with some strange man, just in order to put food in her stomach.

Was this what she'd come down to? Was this all life held for her? A princess of Markovia…reduced to _this_?

She found she just couldn't go through with it. She just couldn't. So she'd quietly sneaked out by way of the bathroom's window, leaving the water running so he couldn't hear. After that, she just ran. Ran and ran, until she didn't know where else to run to. Now, she realized that she'd been running away from that horrible moment ever since…but without any clear direction in her life.

She tried using her powers. Sometimes they worked. But sometimes there were unforeseen side-effects, and, a few times, she'd wound up causing more harm than good.

She remembered standing at a sink in a truck stop's filthy rest room, and, once again, just looking at her reflection in the mirror. She'd had some "offers" of a "free ride to wherever yer goin', honey," from a couple of men who had come through there, and, more than once, been seriously tempted. Maybe this _was_ all she was good for.

But she'd just never gotten up the nerve to go through with it, to cross that line, to sell her body to some man for money.

But the very fact that she'd never actually gone through with any of that still did nothing to alleviate her guilt. Basically, she'd been prepared to prostitute herself, to survive. She'd just chickened out at the last moment, that was all. In essence, she'd already committed the deed in her mind, and now her mind was tormenting her with feelings of guilt. Because Gar didn't know. What if he found out?

So some nights she tossed and turned. Her conscience wouldn't let her sleep. And sometimes, she'd thrashed about enough to wake him, and then he'd taken her into his arms, pulled her close…and the two of them had simply gone back to sleep, with him never realizing that that simple gesture, on his part, soothed her fears and calmed her soul.

But something still bothered her. Her interrupted time with the Titans—she still cringed at the memory of Slade, and all he'd said and done—especially done—had served to give her employment, and a certain standing in the community. She was no longer Terra Markov, homeless person. Now she had an actual income. It was a huge relief.

But some part of her wondered. Although she hadn't known it at the time (at least, she didn't think she did), the green-skinned Teen Titan who'd taken such an interest in her was actually pretty well off, financially. She'd only come into the knowledge that he was after they were engaged. Of course, none of that made any difference to her.

Unless, of course, it did.

Had she subconsciously zeroed in on someone who could provide for her? She couldn't recall ever knowing that much about his financial affairs, but maybe she'd heard a rumor, just a dropped comment or two, that hadn't registered in her conscious mind at the time, but that had—maybe, possibly-affected her feelings towards him.

Had she, in essence, married him for his money?

Of course not, she told herself. She married him because she loved him, would always love him, no matter what. Even, even if they'd been living out of a cardboard box, she still would love him. At least, that's what she told herself.

But how could she know?

In her mind, it didn't matter that she'd been unable to go through with it, that first time in Berlin. The fact was, she'd been prepared to do so. She'd actually _decided_ to fuck a man for his money. It was one thing to have loveless sex with someone, as she had with Slade (and she was definitely not proud of that, even though, to this day, she wasn't really sure just how it had come about), but to feel _forced _to do it, and _for money_, was a very different thing indeed. So now she felt…tainted. And so far, she hadn't found any way of removing that stain on her soul.

Could she be sure she wasn't doing that right now? _Absolutely_ sure? How?

Something on the very edges of her mind rippled and rustled. Instantly, she was fully awake, every sense alert, like a rabbit that has heard a twig crack. Lying there in the dark, she carefully probed around the edges of her mind, just as Raven (and, yes, Slade, also) had taught her: feel carefully, search for thoughts/feelings not your own. Maintain a tight hold on your own feelings and thoughts. Control. Control is the key.

"Terra?" Garfield yawned awake, pushing up from his pillow. "Something wrong?"

"No, Gar. Just…thinking." She came into his arms, and the two entwined themselves together once again, just as they had at the Tower, and had done so almost every night together since her resurrection. She settled against him, enjoying his warmth, and just his simple nearness. Those doubts she had…they were just that: doubts, and doubts only. It was all in her head. She knew she loved him, would always love him, no matter what.

But just before sleep overtook her, the stray thought ran through her mind: _always is a very very long time. Could anything ever be truly and completely always?_

…_.._

_She was back on that streetcorner in Berlin, all made up, ready (she thought) for business. As before, the black limo had pulled up, and the back passenger window rolled down in a steady motion that implied an electric motor behind it. But instead of the anonymous man she'd seen then, it was Beast Boy's face, looking out at her from the warm interior of the car. His face twisted in a sneer. "You've gotta be kiddin' me." The window rolled back up, and the limo sped off into the freezing night._

_Scene change: Terra had returned to the room at Titans' Tower she shared with Garfield. Upon opening the door, however, she was greeted with a shocking sight: Garfield—her intended—was locked in a steamy embrace with Raven, both of them only partially clothed. As she stood there, paralyzed by the shock, they broke apart momentarily and looked at her. Their expressions were anything but apologetic. "Well, well," said Beast Boy, a cruel gleam in his eye, "look what the cat dragged in. Or should I say, the garbage truck."_

_Raven's face wore a superior, triumphant expression. "Oh, come on. Did you __really__ think he'd settle for a teenage whore like you? You were just practice. I may be his half sister, but it doesn't take much to be a whole lot better than the likes of __you__. And he'll __always__ love me, regardless."_

"_Yeah," said Beast Boy, either oblivious to or actually enjoying her mounting anguish, "It's not like I need Slade's leftovers, anyway. Close the door on your way out." He turned back to Raven, smiling in his arms. "We'll have your stuff sent to the nearest streetcorner. That's where you belong, anyway."_

_No, no,_ she told herself, stumbling back, breath hitching, but whether to cry or scream she couldn't say, _this is a dream. It has to be. I'm having a nightmare. This is my worst imaginings, come to life. But it's only a dream. Gar would never do me this way, I know he wouldn't!_

_Scene change: She knelt, completely naked, except for chains around her wrists and ankles, arms manacled behind her, before her father, the king of Markovia. "Terra. You have disgraced the name of the House of Markov. No, not merely disgraced it; you've dragged it through the sewer. Mere exile is insufficient for your crimes." He paused, watching her shiver with cold and fright, savoring her fear. "So I'm giving the men in my eighty-first battalion a gift. You. You will be theirs to do with as they please. You probably won't survive the month, but I really don't care. Guards! Come take her away!"_

_Desperate, she looked around for Brion. Surely…."Brion! It's me, Terra! Help me!"_

_But Brion Markov, her half-brother, just turned his back on her, disdainfully. "It's a whole lot better than you deserve, tramp." And the guards came and dragged her off…_

Someone was shaking her. "Terra! Terra? Wake up! _Terra!"_ She woke up to find Garfield holding her, his arm behind her head, a look of worry on his green face. "Terra?"

"I'm, I'm…" She found herself crying uncontrollably. "I'm…alright, Gar. Just…just a bad dream." She clung to him, trying to stem the tide of tears that seemed to just keep coming.

"No," he said. "A bad dream is getting chased by a T-Rex. This was worse. Way worse. Wasn't it?" Wordlessly, she nodded, her head against his bare chest. "So what was it about?"

"It…I…I don't know…it was nothing. Really. Just some crazy dream…"

He held her head against his chest, his hand behind her, underneath her hair. "Was it about me?" Again a wordless nod on her part. "Did it involve me, like, rejecting you or something?" Another wordless nod. "Maybe in favor of Raven?" Nod. "Terra. Listen to me. Listen very closely to what I'm about to say, okay? Will you do that?" She sniffled and nodded again, still not trusting her voice to speak. "I don't know the particulars of your dream, but one thing I can tell you, without any doubt whatsoever: I love you. Ever since the moment I first laid eyes upon you, right up until now, and I still do, and I always will. No matter what. I look at you, and I see my one true love, the girl—make that the _woman_—whom I want to spend the rest of my life with. And I will never ever forsake you. I promised I wouldn't, didn't I? I made a vow before God Himself. And if your dreams are telling you different, well, you just walk straight up to 'em, kick 'em right in the balls, and tell 'em 'Get the hell outta both our lives!' So there." And he kissed her face, kissing her tears away.

She sniffled some more, laughing and crying at the same time. "I…It's just, I can't seem to shake this notion that if you really knew me, you…wouldn't want me."

"Is this about Slade?" No reply. "Well, if so, it's like I told you before: I don't really care how it all happened. I don't even care if _you_ seduced _him_. Doesn't matter. All that's over with. You're still the girl I love, and always will. So just _know_ that, in your heart, and don't worry about your feelings. Feelings aren't facts, and they can fool you. But know what you know, and what you know is, _I love you._ And _that _is a fact. Can you do that? For me?"

She nodded, lying there, against his chest, and trying to smile. "I'll, I'll try. But this, this nightmare just seemed so _real_…"

"Nightmares often do. But they're still just dreams, not truth, and here, in the waking world, the truth is: I love you. You're my wife, soon to be the mother of my children—_our_ children—and I'll always, repeat _always_ love you."

The two drifted back to sleep, completely unaware of the faintest wisp of fog or mist that had found its way into their bedroom, and even now, stole quietly out…

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2: Traces

Godwar Part 3: Chapter 2: Traces

Half a hemisphere away, in a secret cavern known only to a few, a tall woman with long, highlighted brown hair stood before a curiously carved altar. What appeared to be a reddish-yellow flame sprang up from the very middle of that concave surface. A flame with no apparent source, that somehow projected the image of a face, wizened beyond anything in mortal experience, and strangely androgynous. After a moment, the red eyes opened, swiveled around, and fixed upon her.

The woman bowed deeply before the altar. And the words formed in her mind: _You have failed._ She didn't reply; there was no point in doing so; the master already knew. What she didn't know was, what was coming next.

_You have failed, Mirissa, in spite of all the power I gave you. You failed._

"Yes, My lord." Again, she didn't really know what else to say or do. Take her punishment, she guessed.

_Your personal vendetta against the girl, the spawn of the house of Markov, means nothing to me. What matters is, you undertook a course of action and, even though you accounted for all foreseeable variables, still failed. It calls into question your competency. _

Mirissa blew out a sigh. "In all honesty, my lord, I did not foresee _all_ variables. The spawn of your great enemy, Trigon—*"

_I have told you not to mention his name. I will not tell you again._

Mirissa paled, but gathered herself. "Of-of course, my lord. I…misspoke. The spawn of your great enemy proved to be a factor I had not accounted for. But now I know."

_And so now you believe yourself to be a match for the son of the demon overlord?_ The sarcasm positively dripped off the words as they came into her mind.

"Nothing in life—and few things in death—is absolutely certain, my lord. But now that I know of him, I can plan more effectively, so as neutralize his ability and nature."

_And you will do that precisely how?_

"I am already formulating plans to turn them against each other. The slut could not have chosen a better champion or lover, and I cannot believe that to be accidental. But I have sensed…friction between the two of them, especially involving the _other_ spawn of—of your great enemy. It should be child's play to drive a wedge, so to speak, between them, leaving her essentially defenseless against me."

_She is hardly defenseless._

"True, my lord, true. But with proper preparations, her power over the Earth can be effectively nullified. Also," and here Mirissa smiled a very unpleasant smile, "also just as _she_ took Brion from me, perhaps I can manage to take this 'Beast Boy' away from her. Tit, as the saying goes, for tat."

_You would seduce the son of the demon?_

"Oh, no. Nothing so vulgar as that." Again an unpleasant smile. "But if he were to meet with an…untimely demise, it would certainly serve her right. I believe you would enjoy that. Or, consider: I might conceivably arrange for Beast Boy and this Raven to…find out more about each other, so to speak. A lot more. In a much more _intimate _way than they previously have. That would demoralize the slut immensely, and definitely provide you with the pain you seek. It could even snowball, in a sense—a chain reaction that would drastically affect the lives of all those around her."

_Your arguments are persuasive. Pain._ The reddish-yellow eyes in the wrinkled flame-face closed momentarily, as though savoring a delicacy. _It is to be relished. But I will tolerate no further failure on your part. And your personal vendetta against the girl will have to wait. I've another task for you, which, upon the successful completion of,_ and here, the face nodded slightly, as if to emphasize the word "successful," _you may resume your pursuit of your righteous revenge._

…

Terra rode a boulder down to the mailbox at the edge of the driveway leading into their property. Their house was on a large plot of land, and, while she normally walked, feeling the need for the exercise, this time she took the easy way, due to a certain amount of physical fatigue. Not only had they probably broken some sort of record for lovemaking the night before, the house itself, while largely automatic, still needed some tending by a live person. Machines couldn't do _everything._ Plus, the physical activity kept her mind off of…certain things.

She was nearly to the mailbox—such recent arrivals were they, that they got practically no mail, aside from those bills that, for whatever reason, the companies refused to deliver online. So she wasn't really expecting anything to actually be in the box; she was really just looking for a way to get out of the house for a while. Gar was playing a game with Cyborg, back in Jump City, via remote link, over the internet.

Overall, Terra found herself truly enjoying the country lifestyle. Cities were more exciting, true, but both she and Garfield had seen more than their share of excitement in their short lives. The peace and quiet was a welcome change.

So her thoughts were a bit distracted by the pastoral beauty around her. Her first indication that something was wrong came from spying what appeared to be a small heap of green clothing on the ground by the mailbox. At first, she sniffed; someone had had the nerve to throw away some of their garbage right at the edge of their property. Then the "garbage" moved. What th'?

She hovered closer, wary of a trap, already bringing up a few boulders and rocks, several of them wickedly sharp, keeping them handy, just in case…then she gasped as she realized that she _recognized_ those green coveralls. She'd seen them before, on several occasions. "_Gizmo?_ What are _you_ doing here?"

A barely conscious Gizmo could only groan in reply.

…..

Flying over the mountains, Angelique and Deena were conversing in Link. {{And I just _gotta_ show you Miss Terra and Mr. Garfield's new house, it is _so cute_, and there's a pond in back_…_}} Angelique's comments were cut off by a transmission from the very place they'd been headed towards. "Rae?" Beast Boy's voice came in over the secure link, directed at the Titans' residence back in Jump City. Well, thought Angelique with a smile, it was secure to anyone _else._ "Raven? You there? Gotta bit of a problem here. Are you, by any chance, missing one half-pint technogenius?"

….

Landing, Angelique and Deena signaled for entrance even while Garfield was still talking to Raven back in Jump City on the Titans' internal monitor system, with Angelique morphing from jet form back into human form effortlessly. "And he's still not completely out of it. Looks like he's been in one whale of a fight." That was true. The ten-year old technological whiz had shown up, practically at their doorstep, looking as though he'd gone a few rounds with Lobo. Some of his clothes, and almost all of his gadgets, of which he always seemed to have a never-ending supply, actually looked _burned._ He still seemed to be in shock from whatever had happened to him.

"_You're sure he's not faking? Remember, Gar, Gizmo's dangerous. He's a kid, and he's a completely amoral one at that. So be careful."_

"We are, Rae. Oh, hey, girls. When did you get here?" While Garfield knew Angelique, of course, he'd never actually met Deena, and had to be introduced. "Well, hey, Deena. So you're…Raven's friends' daughter? 'S'good to meet you." Deena nodded, being unable to speak due to lacking, as all unmodified Osirans did, any sort of vocal apparatus. Terra was watching Gizmo, both to see to his recovery, and for more tactical reasons.

Angelique "listened" for a moment, Linking with Deena. "She says it's good to meet you, too, Mr. Garfield. What's going on? And who's this?"

"Oooooohh," Gizmo groaned, attempting to sit up. Suddenly, he realized where he was. "Hey!" He fumbled for something in his utility belt….

….and found his hand held firmly in place by a little girl with snow-white skin and hair. "Leggo of me! I haven't done anything!" _Yet,_ he added, to himself. "Leggo!"

"Ramp it down, Giz," Garfield told him. "_You_ showed up _here,_ looking like somebody'd hit you with a couple dozen wrecking balls. What happened to you, anyway?"

"Nothing." Gizmo sullenly refused to meet their eyes. "Nunna yer business. I was just…" He tried to stand up, but Deena firmly shoved him back down. Gizmo's eyes widened. Whoever she was, this little girl was _strong._ He looked around at the group, with Raven watching from the screen. "If I told ya the truth, ya'd think I was crazy."

"Well, we _already_ think you're a _little_ crazy. May as well go for the whole taco."

Still Gizmo refused to meet their gaze. Then he sighed. Truth was, he kinda _wanted_ to tell _some_body, just to vent a little. "Well…if you _must_ know—and I guess yer not gonna quit pestering me 'till ya do-…there I was, mindin' my own business, takin' a late night tour of the Jump City Museum—hey, don't look at me like that! It's less crowded then! Besides, I didn't do nuthin'!

"Anyway, I was just chillin,' takin it all in, when I was…attacked."

"Attacked? By who?"

Gizmo still refused to meet their looks, his stubborn pride warring with his shock and fright. Finally, he had to say something. "I was attacked by a dragon, alright? Ya happy now?"

"A dragon? Are you sure?" Terra looked at her husband. He'd once turned into a dragon, in an extreme circumstance. But he'd been here all along…

"Big, scaly, wings, breathes fire, yeah, I'm sure. Only there's no such thing. Only…that's what it was." He calmed down a bit, now that it was out, and suddenly seemed exhausted, an exhaustion that was probably more emotional than physical. "So, yeah, go ahead and call the loony bin. Make my reservation."

Garfield and Raven exchanged glances through the monitor screen. "Was it, by any chance," began Raven, "black with a purple underside?"

Gizmo stared, honest surprise on his face. "How the frack did you know that?"

…..

"It's not here," Raven sighed. Upon closing the connection with Gar and Terra, she and Haywire had immediately gone to her room. Raven had a horrible suspicion as to the identity of the dragon Gizmo had mentioned.

A search of her room had not reassured her. The cursed book, that had been Malchior's prison for who knew how long, was missing from its accustomed spot. And Raven knew very well _she_ had not been the one to move it.

The book was gone. There was no doubt. She and Hank had turned her room upside down, just to be sure. No book. So, Raven could only conclude, someone had managed to steal the book, somehow bypassing her magical wards, and, presumably, succeeded in liberating Malchior.

She couldn't think of anyone she knew of who possessed that kind of talent. It had taken a lot out of her to do it the first time, even with Malchior's coaching and knowledge. Someone would have to be a serious magic user to've let that big a cat out of the bag, so to speak, especially since she'd personally reinforced the spells binding the evil dragon to the pages of the book. But who?

Any intruder into the tower would have been detected by the alarm system. So who could've gotten in to steal the book?

The simplest answer was that someone in the group had taken the book, as Raven's wards were designed to have no effect on any of her immediate teammates. But she really couldn't see any of her friends as having taken that particular book, especially knowing what—and who—it contained.

Bottom line: the book was gone. And, evidently, Malchior was loose. Unless there was another dragon with his same coloration running around, and, from what Raven knew of dragons, that wasn't likely.

She dug out her T-Cell, dialing Garfield's number. "Gar. Gizmo's still there, right? Ask him what he was after, in the museum."

"_Got it, Rae."_ She heard some muttered comments in the background, including Gizmo's muffled protestations of innocence, and his demanding a lawyer. But finally, Garfield came back on. _"Says he wasn't looking for anything in particular, just…shopping, so to speak. But he was attacked in the section housing the African display, the part dedicated to the Belgian Congo. Says he just turned a corner, and there it was. At first he thought it was an animatronic display. Then kaboom."_

"Hm. I can hardly imagine Malchior stealing something from the museum _quietly_. One thing dragons, as a species, usually aren't, is quiet. I'll check with the museum officials, see if anything is missing, and, if so, what. Might give us some clues. In the meantime, keep an eye on Gizmo. I don't have to tell you to watch out for any of his technological tricks. Keep him there until we've gotten more answers than we now have. If it weren't for him showing up like this, we wouldn't even know Malchior might be on the loose."

"_You're sure it's Malchior, Rae? I mean, it couldn't possibly be some other dragon?"_

"Unlikely. Gizmo described his coloration altogether too accurately; dragons are usually either red or a sort of reptilian mottled color. Malchior was unusual." She paused, drawing a breath. "I'd really rather it _was_ some other dragon, but the facts are against it."

"_I know, Rae. I know what he put you through. Just remember, we're both only a phone call away. And we can be there instantly, if you need us."_ The Logans' new house was connected, as were the two HQ's in Jump City, and Titans' Tower East, by standing-wave subquantum teleport gates in the basement. They literally had only to step through to be there.

She smiled. "Yes, I know, Gar. And…and I appreciate it, more than I can readily express. But, for now, let's not borrow trouble. If Malchior—or, for that matter, any dragon—was in the museum that late at night, it's logical to assume a theft of something. In fact, that's the _only_ reason he'd be there. But I'll be in touch."

"_Sounds good. Later."_

"Later, 'little brother.'" And she closed the connection.

"What's your gut feeling, Rae? What could Malchior possibly want in a museum?"Hank asked.

Raven sighed. "With dragons, it's not always cut and dried. Their valuation of some items is not according to human standards; what we'd consider a piece of junk, they'd treasure. Nonhuman minds and intellects. But it stands to reason, that, if Malchior was trying to steal something, and from a museum to boot, it has to be something of some importance. It wouldn't be in a museum otherwise." She bit her lip. "I just can't figure out _how_ he could have gotten out. Of the book, I mean." Thinking. "If he'd somehow managed to get out of the book on his own, I imagine the first thing he'd do is seek revenge on me for imprisoning him back in it. Yet he didn't. That implies someone with a different agenda is calling the shots. Someone's controlling him. There aren't many magic users who could do that. I mean, somebody on the order of, say, Dr. Fate could, but I think we can safely rule him out. And somebody had to steal the book in the first place, presumably through magical means of some sort, in one way or another.

A quick call to the curator of the museum, however, revealed no signs of anything out of the ordinary: no indication of a battle, nothing missing. That, in itself, was troubling.

If Gizmo was telling the truth, _someone_, some magic user, had sent in a dragon to (presumably) steal something. But there was no sign of a struggle, and that hardly computed. It seemed to indicate someone wished stealth, and one thing dragons seldom were, was stealthy.

Of course, a more convoluted possibility was that Malchior (if it was Malchior) had been sent in as a distraction…but then, why bother with a coverup? Her questions only led to more questions.

…..

The Logans' house, Colorado: Garfield had just gotten off the phone himself, to see if anyone had sighted or reported anything out of the ordinary, when he was distracted by the sound of loud voices coming from the living room. He went to investigate.

A determined looking Deena was standing firmly in the doorway, obviously blocking a very irritated Gizmo from leaving. "You can't hold me! I know my rights! I haven't done anything! And, and you try an' keep me here, an' I'll charge you with kidnapping!"

"You're right about that," replied Terra, soothingly. "We can't keep you here. But…" she paused, a crafty look coming over her face. "It _is_ about suppertime. Aren't you hungry?"

They could see the look of uncertainty come over his face

Gizmo paused, clearly thinking. He _was_ hungry. But…"Nah. I gotta go. Got places to go, things to d-*"

Terra was holding up a carton of ice cream. "Rocky Road ice cream for dessert?"

"Uhm." Rocky Road? That…put a different spin on things. Then a sigh of resignation. He turned for just a moment to look at Deena, still guarding the door, arms crossed. The stupid little girl obviously wasn't gonna let him go without a fight, and all of his techno-gimmicks had been burned up in the battle with the dragon. "Okay. Ya talked me into it. But I get three scoops!"

….

"No, nothing was taken. Nothing of any importance, I mean." He chuckled. "I mean, the _garbage_ was taken out, but somehow I don't think you mean that." The museum's director looked at Raven, Haywire, and Nemesis as though they were somewhat crazy. A dragon? Here in _his_ museum? He'd seen enough in and around Jump City to know better than to just disbelieve automatically, but still. He could have—vaguely—understood if they'd perhaps been under the delusion that one of the dinosaur exhibits had come to life, especially in light of the impact the "Night at the Museum" movies had made, but dragons were works of sheer fantasy. There wasn't even a skeleton or plaster of Paris mockup to animate. "The size you describe could hardly go unnoticed, unless," and here he smiled slightly, "someone persuaded the dragon to walk on tippy toe. I'd have a hard time believing _that._"

"So do I," replied Raven, even as Nemesis frowned at the director's condescending tone, "But I noticed that you said 'nothing of _importance'_ was taken. Was there, perhaps, something of _un_importance missing?"

"Hm. Well, I mean, you know…our bagged garbage had been seemingly, er, ransacked a bit. But, to be frank, there's nothing all that unusual about that. Our janitor sometimes goes through it, hoping to find some valuable artifact that everyone else has missed. I've had to, well. _Speak_ to him about that, on several occasions."

"Where is he now?"

The man leaned back in his chair, an expansive gesture, perfectly at ease. "I don't really know." He reached for his desktop communicator. "Sandra? Has Bob come in yet?" He covered the intercom's pickup and said, "Bob's the janitor. He's a little, er, slow, if you get my drift. A bit of an oddball. Great guy, though. Just-*"

At that moment Sandra came back on. "_No, sir, he hasn't. And that's peculiar. He's normally very prompt. I was just about to call him."_

"Get him on the phone. He was probably at some sort of party last night or something. Probably still hung over." In the next few moments, they heard the telephone dial tone ringing…

…ringing…

…ringing…

"_Hi. You've reached the Shoenfeldt residence. I can't take your call right now. Please leave a-*"_ Sandra came back on the intercom. "Sorry, sir. He's not answering"

"What's his address?" asked Raven.

…

Just outside the apartment building, the three met with the landlord. "Nope. Ain't seen no sign of him all day. Why? He done somethin'?" he asked, almost eagerly, Raven thought. Almost as if he hoped his tenant _had_ done something to attract the attention of the superhero community. That was a little unusual; most of the time, most landlords very rightly wanted nothing to do with beings who routinely demolished whole city blocks in defense of justice.

"No, we just need to ask him a few questions, that's all." The manager's face fell noticeably. "If you'll be so kind as to direct us to his apartment, we'd be most appreciative." _Tact, Raven, tact._

"Uh, sure." The man led them up a staircase that had seen better days, and pointed at a door down the hall. "There. Room 213. You need to get in or somethin'?" Again that almost-eager look. "I gotta passkey."

"That won't be necessary." The trio moved down the hallway towards the indicated door. There was a non-functional doorbell by the door. So Raven knocked once, twice, three times. No answer. "Hank? Can you sense anything?" Haywire was their resident telepath.

Hank concentrated for a moment, eyes partially closed. "No…can't sense anybody in there."

"That's because he's not in there," spoke up Jasson, speaking for the first time since they'd brought him in on the case. "I could hear him if he was. No sign of him, _mere,"_ he said, using the respectful term for females from his home Earth.

"You're sure? Okay. I'm going in there, see what I can find…" And Raven passed through a dark circle that opened in the door itself, into the apartment.

The apartment itself was tidy, but had a distinct "lived in" look. A few magazines were on the low coffee table in front of the couch. And old-fashioned cathode-ray television sat on the side of the wall, facing the worn couch. It was clear the occupant of this room had spent many an hour watching TV from this vantage point.

But there was no sign of said occupant. His clothes were folded and put away, the dirty ones in a laundry basket, even as most people do, awaiting wash day. Raven found herself wishing for Robin's help in this matter; he had oodles of experience in a forensic sweep. As it was….she concentrated, allowing a portion of her soul-self to settle over the objects in the room, touching on them briefly, trying to glean some idea as to what the person was like who lived here, and what might have happened to him.

There was a whole lot of nothing to be found. Evidently, Bob had been quite content here, watching TV, reading his magazines (and Raven smiled a crooked smile when her mind touched on a few _Playboys_ hidden away in the bedroom; well, a bachelor, living alone…), and living his uncomplicated life. There was no sign of any struggle or any indication of any violence, magical or otherwise.

She phased through the door, passing out into the hallway. "I think we need to take a closer look at the museum." They should have earlier, and she mentally kicked herself for not doing so when they were there. Robin would have, but with Robin it was second nature. She was still learning. "And see if you can't get Omega or Athena—or both—to join us there. They may pick up something we'd miss."

…

The African Exhibit was divided into two parts: colonial Africa, under the dominion of the various European powers, and the modern-day geopolitical configuration. The Belgian Congo display took up almost one whole wing, all by itself. "Okay, people. Look around. Omega? Take a look with your senses at the display itself, while you, Athena, go with Devil Cat and inspect those ransacked garbage bags. See what you can come up with." Meanwhile, with Hank and Jasson, she explored the exhibit itself. "If Gizmo's report is to be believed, this is the spot where he was attacked. Jasson? Can you sense anything unusual about this part of the museum? Hank?"

"Negatory, Rae," replied Haywire, after a few moments of concentration. "No minds I can detect, and I can't find anything all that unusual about the atomic and subatomic arrangement, either."

"Jass—I mean, Nemesis? Anything?"

"No, _mere._ I have pretty much the same senses as the Osirans do, but I'm not seeing anything out of the ordinary."

"Yet it was _right here._" Raven looked around her. The building housing the display didn't seem large enough to accommodate a dragon, particularly one the size of Malchior. He'd have had to take pains to have left such a small "footprint," in both senses of the word. So what was he doing here, anyway?

Raven's T-cell chimed. "_Raven? Athena here. Devil Cat and I have gone through the trash. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, however…."_

"Yes?"

"_I am noting traces of iridium on some of the artifacts. I understand this is not commonplace on Earth."_

Hm. "That's true, it's not. Let's get the director down here."

Shortly, the Titans gathered in the back room, where the garbage was stored, awaiting disposal. The director had a puzzled look on his face. Raven took a certain amount of private satisfaction upon seeing that. This was better than his casual dismissal of the Titans' questions earlier. "Iridium? I can't imagine what that could've come from. I _know_ we didn't get any space rocks…and the concentration of iridium found anywhere else…." He got on his cell. "Sandra? Who was working on the Congo exhibit? Or, for that matter, who was in charge of incoming mineral samples or artifacts? He was? Tell him to get down here immediately. As in now." He closed his cell. "One of our researchers is going to join us. But I can't imagine how-*"

"You wanted to see me, chief?" A bespectacled young man in a white lab coat entered the room.

"Yes. Did you, or anybody in the department, get in any samples of meteorites? Or anything of a mineral nature?"

The man scratched his head. "No…don't believe so. Oh, wait. We did get some samples of igneous rock from the east coast. But we tested them, and there was nothing unusual about them. I believe they got sent back." He shrugged. "Or thrown away. I mean, they were just rocks."

"So no meteorite samples?"

"No sir. That sure would've caught my attention."

"Okay," said Raven, approaching the man, "So what do we know about iridium? What would its presence mean here, in a museum?"

"Well," began the white coat, "iridium is one of the densest elements on Earth. Only osmium is denser." Raven noted, with some amusement, that the young scientist seemed to be fixated on her chest. She hoped the neither Hank nor Jasson took note of that. The last thing she needed right now was for one or both of them to take offense on her behalf.

So she went over to the young scientist, hitching her cloak around her. "What can you tell us about iridium?"

It worked. The young man's attention was drawn to the facts, and glanced away, clearly uncomfortable with looking her in the face. Raven was accustomed to people not making eye contact, but that was usually due to a certain amount of guilt, and the fear that came when meeting someone who could sense things about you. It was a common misconception that Raven was telepathic, so most suspects were uncomfortable with meeting her. This young man was discomfited for an altogether different reason. _He must not get out much,_ thought Raven. She toyed with the notion of letting her cloak fall back, just to give him something to watch, but decided that would be unnecessarily cruel and probably a bit manipulative. Anyway, she didn't have anything all that terrific, surely. Now, if it had been Starfire…"Uhm, uhm, er, y-yes, ma'am, we-we know it has a high melting point, and, and seems resistant to most reagents. Though certain salts attack it. Uhm," and here he made a conscious effort to focus on her face, feeling embarrassed about his furtive glances. Raven smiled what she hoped was an encouraging smile. Had she been alone with him, she would have gone out of her way to reassure him that she had not taken offense. Indeed, part of her was a little flattered. But business before pleasure… "It does exist in terrestrial rock, but even there, it's theorized to be of meteoric origin, just so far in the past as to be included in normal rock strata." He straightened up. "Anyway, it's most commonly found in meteorites."

"And you're sure you received no meteors or meteoric rock samples?"

"Yes, ma'am. Those certainly would have been included in one of our displays." And she could tell he was telling the truth.

"Well, thank you," she said, reaching out to touch him lightly on the arm. "You've been most helpful." He blushed crimson. _I seem to've made a bit of a conquest here, this day,_ thought Raven. It was…strangely gratifying. _Now I know how Starfire feels, when heads turn to watch her walk down the street._

Leaving the museum, she conferred with the others. "So. Anyone notice anything out of the ordinary? Nothing? Just the ransacked garbage bags?"

"You seemed to find the mention of iridium significant," Haywire mentioned. "So what's up with that?"

"Well, in magical terms, it being literally otherworldly in origin, iridium has the property of reflecting, blocking, or even magnifying magical energies." She paused, thinking. "The closest analogy is glass or crystal, here on Earth. It can focus, block, or magnify light, depending upon how it's used, and its configuration. But what I found even more significant was that young man, back there."

"I saw," smirked Kitten.

"Not _that. _I meant, while he was talking, I was of course alert for any signs of untruth in him. There were none. But when I touched his wrist, on the way out, I got a much clearer image of what he'd actually seen."

"I don't understand," said Hank.

"He believed what he told us. But what he actually saw, was not what he believed."

"He _believed_ something he didn't actually see? How's that possible?"

"More accurately, he _did not _believe something he _did _see. It's a technique quite often used. True invisibility is very difficult; you have to bend light waves around you. And you have to do it perfectly, or someone will notice something's wrong with what they're seeing, like a lens or something off-center. But it's a lot simpler, and more, well, more 'efficient,' I suppose you'd say, to simply make someone _not notice_ you."

"I think I see. Er, no pun intended. Somebody cast a spell on the guy so that he _didn't notice_ someone slipping past him?"

"Exactly. And that same someone—_not_ Malchior, Malchior would've torn the place apart—took extreme pains so that all who actually saw him simply would have no real recollection of the fact. It's just easier."

"Like…blending in with the background?"

"One way of putting it, yes. And now I know why Malchior was included in this: dragons are huge sources of magical energies. Malchior's presence would effectively obscure our thief's magical 'trail,' so to speak. Which means, it would be useless to try for any sort of tracking spell. His presence would disrupt that." She frowned in concentration. "But whoever it was may have overlooked one thing. Where's Cyborg?"

….

"Hmmm," mused Cyborg, "So what you need is something that can track track trace amounts of iridium? Actually, that might not be that hard to do. Iridium's not that commonplace…putting together a spectroscopic tracker….hmmm." Raven could tell his mind was working on the device already.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3: Information

Godwar Part 3: Chapter 3: Information

Meanwhile, in the air over Washington, D.C., the vice president was deep in consultation with two of his top liaisons with the CIA. "Okay. We should be secure up here. Now. What was so important that it couldn't wait until after the fund raiser?"

"Mr. Jones," as he was known, handed the vice president a thick file, his corkscrew comm. cable dangling from his ear as he reached over. His eyes were invisible behind his dark glasses. "Here, sir. You might want to scan this for yourself before I say anything. It's…a little hard to explain without some preparation."

The VP opened the file, read for a moment. His face twisted in disgust. "Ouroboros? Unit 731? A holdover from World War II? And what's this about…vivisections?"

"Just what you see, sir. Apparently, certain highly placed officials within our own government saw fit to allow these experiments to continue. With," the agent drew a deep breath, "government funding. And full pardons for the individuals involved. And that's not all. Keep reading."

The number two man in the United States government read further. "_What?_ Magic? What ridiculous nonsense is _this?_"

"Government funded ridiculous nonsense, sir. We've tried tracing the money trail, but….we thought we'd find links to Cadmus. After all, they have a department dedicated to metaphysics. But it's not them."

"So who is it? Somebody's head will be on the chopping block for this."

The man known simply as "Mr. Smith" shrugged, and spoke up for the first time. "That's just it, sir. We don't know. We've tried tracing the organization itself, but gotten nowhere. That, in itself, is…disturbing, given our resources."

"You believe it could be privately funded? But how did these, these war criminals escape justice?"

"Again, we don't know, sir. But we've had several operatives disappear while trying to trace this group. So, for your own protection, we're stepping up the security protocols around you. Apparently, Ouroboros isn't limited to just the USA. And, wherever they are, they seem to have an inordinate amount of influence." He paused, as though wondering whether to share this next bit of information with the man in front of him. "We, erhm, have our own counterpart to Ouroboros, also not wholly of U.S. origin. However, we have managed to, in some cases, take the offensive against Ouroboros. So, we do have that in our corner."

The Vice President considered the folder he'd just perused. "You didn't bring me all the way up here just to tell me what's already going on. So what _haven't_ you told me, that I need to know?"

…..

If this kept up, thought Gizmo, he was almost certain to be sick. And that was a _best_ case scenario.

Everybody was just so _lovey-dovey_ here. Mr. and Mrs. Garfield Logan. _Barf._ Angelique. _Puke._ The little white-skinned girl they called Deena, who wouldn't even talk to him, or anybody. _El sickamundo._

Accustomed to having his own work shop and lab, he felt the boredom beginning to tell on him. They wouldn't let him build anything, well, okay, he could kinda understand that, but he was feeling like he was about to go into IAWS (Internet Addiction Withdrawal Syndrome), and he didn't see anybody breaking any speed limits to fix _that_. "Look, either arrest me or let me go. I mean, I have had it up to here with you thumbsuckers! You don't even have decent cable here! How can you _live_ without the Syfy channel?" He was currently slouched in the Logans' living room. He had to admit, dinner had been good. Normally, he'd grab a burger, fries, and shake and eat the whole thing on the run, or at his workstation, barely even noticing the taste. It had been a very long time since he'd actually _sat at a table,_ with actual _hot food, _where you used _forks_ and _spoons_ an' stuff. How did they ever figure out what to use with what? Hadn't these people ever heard of _sporks?_ Honestly, it was downright uncivilized. They even made him eat his vegetables! This oughtta count as some kinda cruel and unusual punishment.

And this little girl, with the snow-white skin and hair, who kept following him around…why wouldn't she _say_ something? _He'd_ certainly spoken to _her._ No matter what anybody said, the phrase, "Whadda_you_ lookin' at?" did count as speech, didn't it? But she hadn't said a word back. It was beginning to make him nervous.

"And where, exactly," asked Gar, lying on the couch, his head in Terra's lap, "Would you go? For that matter, how did you get here? We're a long way from Jump City."

"Nunnayer—ow!" Deena had poked him sharply in the ribs. "Okay, already! I had a teleporter. A one shot deal, last resort type thing. I just jumped. Didn't matter where. Anywhere that didn't have dragons was good for me." He glowered at the TV, where the news reporter was trading banter with his female colleague. "So," he began, trying his best to be nonchalant about it,"You're sayin' I wasn't just seein' things, I really did see a dragon? I thought they were just fairy tales."

"Fairy tales usually start somewhere. But yeah, you weren't dreaming."

"Frack. If only I'd been _prepared…_" His eyes glazed over as he thought of ways to overcome the dragon's size and power. "I could'a had a dragon's head on my wall."

"More than likely you'd now be getting the grand tour of the dragon's lower intestinal system. Dragons didn't get the rep they have by being easy prey." Garfield stretched out, lying on the couch with Terra, looking so relaxed it made Gizmo want to projectile-vomit all over them both.

"Sez you." He noticed Deena giving him a hard look. She'd shadowed him the entire time he'd been there, and showed no signs of letting up. "And can you _pleeeze_ tell her to quit following me! I'm not gonna do nuthin'!" _'Cept leave, first chance I get._

The other little girl, the one they called _Angelique,_ giggled. "She's not following you around because she thinks you're gonna do something, Gizmo." Deena shot Angelique a look: _shut up!_

But Angelique just giggled all the more. "She's following you around, 'cause she thinks you're cute."

Gizmo's jaw dropped. He turned towards Deena, an expression of shock spreading all over his face. All of a sudden, the little Osiran girl had become more terrifying than any ten dragons. "Oh. My. _God_."

….

Back in her quarters at Titans' Tower, Raven sat, cross legged in midair, in communication with the Entity.

Or, perhaps more accurately, in _attempted_ communication with the Entity. The Universe-spanning being could be downright verbose, on occasion, but sometimes…

_**{{Yes, Raven?}}**_

{{You told me all life on Earth was in extreme danger. I need more information on that.}}

_**{{More information might not help.}}**_She could sense the Entity debating with itself about whether or not to elaborate.

{{But what you've told me isn't very helpful, in and of itself. Why did you go so far as to tell me what you did, but refuse to divulge any further information?}}

_**{{Again, it isn't easily explained. But I will try. You are familiar with the principle you call Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, are you not?}}**_

{{Yes. That observing events can alter those same events.}}

_**{{Simply put, yes. But that is only a physical law. There are metaphysical laws to the universe, as well, laws that, in many ways, function much the same way. Your half-brother, Garfield Logan, encountered something similar. Remember?}}**_

Raven's eyes widened ever so slightly. {{I had suspected that. But…that's why he began "demonizing" at…certain times?}}

_**{{When you were in danger, yes. Once it was brought to his attention that his powers were magically based, rather than scientifically based, he began to experience them in ways he had not done so before. Magic, as you are well aware, requires belief. You must believe in a thing, a ritual, etc., before it has any power. Otherwise, the penny you find, face up on the street, is naught but a bit of copper and zinc. The horseshoe you nail up over your dwelling is nothing but a rusty piece of iron…unless you believe.}}**_

{{So…by telling him the truth about his origins, I…set him off?}}

_**{{Only in a manner of speaking. The matter would have come to a head, in some way, no matter what. But what happened, happened because of choices, decisions made.}}**_

{{So…I'm to blame for his…distress. I _knew_ I shouldn't have told him!}}

_**{{No. As I said, the matter would have come to a head in some way. The way that it did was, actually, one of the better ways. There are timelines where he and Terra either split up, or never ended up together for various reasons, and you and he became a couple. In those, there are still problems. The human condition is to have 'problems.' In some, you and he are happily married. In others, one or both of you no longer live. And there are many variations in between.}}**_

Raven blushed. {{But he's my…half-}}

_**{{Whom you love. Raven, I know something of love. I began being what I have become…because of love. Never apologize for loving another. It may be necessary, sometimes, to apologize for the actions one takes, but never apologize for love itself.}}**_

{{T-thank you.}} She straightened up, conscious of a tear coursing its way down her cheek. {But I believe we're getting off topic.}}

_**{{Indeed. Have you spoken with the Osirans regarding what caused the end of their universe?}}**_

{{No. I'd always assumed it was due to some sort of universal extinction, such as a "big crunch," "big rip," or heat death.}}

_**{{Universal extinction, yes. But it had its roots in the Osirans themselves, and the actions they undertook.}}**_

{{How does that affect us?}}

_**{{Because the same thing is happening—with certain differences—in THIS universe. Your scientists have been incorrect in their projections regarding the End of All Things. They see it as something that will happen regardless, on its own scale. **_

_**{{This is not the case.}}**_

{{You're saying we CAN prevent the end of the universe?}}

_**{{Not precisely. But what you—humans, self-aware beings, rather—do actually makes a difference in this matter.}}**_

{{I don't understand…}}

_**{{Again, belief. And actions taken based upon that belief.**_

_**{{There are two matters of import coinciding in your timeline. Do you remember, when Starfire was kidnapped by Trogaar, and the Orb sensed something it was very anxious not to meet?}}**_

{{Yes…?}} Warily.

_**{{Your universe is in the process of Ending, Raven. There isn't any good analogy for it, but consider a starving man. Beyond a certain point, medical science may be of no use; his body will begin to consume itself. Beyond this point, medical treatment can become unhelpful.}}**_

{{The universe is starving somehow?}}

_**{{No and yes. You see, perception plays a large role in physical events. Are you familiar with what you call Schrodinger's Paradox? Sometimes called Schrodinger's Cat.}}**_

{{Perhaps you could enlighten me.}}

_**{{The paradox is this: picture a safe, a perfectly ordinary safe, such as people keep money in. Into this safe, you place a glass with a brick suspended over it, the string holding the brick linked to a random-number generator. If the number generated is odd, the string will be cut, and the glass broken. But if the number generated is even, the string—and the glass—remains intact.}}**_

{{Got it…}}

_**{{But the paradox is this: until someone—a self-aware being—actually opens the safe and looks inside, both conditions prevail. The glass both is and is not broken. Until observed. Then the wave form collapses into one or the other.}}**_

Raven frowned, trying to wrap her mind around the concept. {{That…doesn't make sense. A thing either is or it isn't.}}

_**{{Actually, no. Before it is perceived, an event is not real.}}**_

{{This…sounds like what I learned from my friends in that other world. I thought such a law only applied to singularities}}

_**{{No. It also applies to the universe as a whole. Events can be perceived into existence.}}**_

{{That's…disturbing. Does that mean nothing is really _real_?}}

_**{{Define real. But as to how it affects you, and going back to our analogy: past a certain point, the starving man's body begins to act against him. The very mechanisms that previously helped him survive now turn against him. A very similar thing is transpiring in your universe. Some of the same mechanisms that enabled life to arise to begin with, are acting against that life. Especially intelligent life, as such beings' perception is greater than that of other creatures.**_

_**{{Your universe is dying, or unraveling, or whatever word you wish to use for it. It is Ending. Chaos will result. That's part of the reason I'm here to begin with.}}**_

Raven's mind was reeling. {{But…but how do we fit into this? From what you said, it almost sounded like humans were to blame, somehow.}}

_**{{Only in that they—and other intelligent races, spread throughout the stars—function as observers. You see, Raven…the belief of intelligent beings **__**matters**__**, even as their actions do. It's a fairly recent human fallacy to think that one's actions do not matter in the long run.}}**_

{{But how…?}}

_**{{Belief. And perception. If you believe the universe is coming to an end, it hastens its demise. And that holds true, no matter how large your universe is. Such emotions as fear, despair, along with one other component, tend to cause a kind of chain reaction in space/time. The result: the universe gets "unmade," largely due to the simple perception, on behalf of its occupants, who are its observers. In other words, you get what you expect. Sort of.**_

_**{{That is why I was hesitant to tell you before.}}**_

{{But how can that…}} She was trying to wrap her mind around a previously unsuspected cosmic principle.

_**{{A great many people—not all on your world—are **__**expecting**__** the universe to end. And so it is. And there is another factor, one that figured highly into the death of the Osirans' universe.}}**_

{{And that is…?}}

_**{{The deaths, the needless deaths, of innocents. You are aware that blood sacrifice carries significant metaphysical power. But the more innocents who die, needlessly, wantonly, the greater the effect is. It's more random than a magical spell, far less focused, but the effect is still there. This played a large role in the Ending of the Osirans' universe. They had reached a period of decadence, when it was commonplace for innocent beings to be killed, whether by command of the Lords or not. But just the fact that they died, for no reason, hastened the universal unraveling.}}**_

{{So you're saying that the universe is dying because…because the death of innocent beings is…on the upswing?}}

_**{{I'm saying it's a factor. It's not just Earth, if that's any consolation. Throughout the galaxy, many civilizations are tolerating, if you will, murder, the death of innocents, more and more. And with each one, each one, whose personal universe ends, so, too, ends the universe as a whole. Just a little bit more each day.**_

_**{{This is why virtually every major religion, not just on Earth, but elsewhere as well, has had strict injunctions against murder.}}**_

{{So…what can we do about it?}}

_**{{That's the hard part. Nothing.}}**_

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4: Sacrifices

Godwar Part 3: Chapter 4: Sacrifices

O200 hours: A lonely, wind-swept plateau, somewhere in the American southwest: two figures, one humanoid, one definitely not, materialized out of a flair of light. The woman looked around, surveying the landscape. "I believe this will do," remarked Beulah Bleak, addressing her companion, the giant dragon Malchior. Malchior grumbled. "And I suppose you still can't tell me what you need _me_ for."

Beulah Bleak smiled a downright disconcerting smile. "All in due time, Malchior. All in due time." And she raised her arms, tilted her head back, eyes closed, and muttered words in a language totally unfamiliar, even to the dragon. Immediately, lines of Halloween-yellow force sprang into existence, drawing their power from the natural ley lines that criss-cross the Earth. They stood out in stark contrast to the dark landscape around them.

Beulah stepped into the circle, making one complete revolution around it, all the while muttering words of power under her breath. She touched on the Four Points, closing her eyes and concentrating. Finally, she seemed satisfied, and came out of the circle.

That small action seemed to have drained her somewhat. Malchior looked on with eagerness. If she got too tired, she might, accidently, relax her hold over him. But he bided his time; there was nothing to be gained by rushing matters.

"I think this will do. Now. Hand me the iridium."

Malchior complied. He'd learned, early on, just precisely what the consequences of non-compliance were, and had no wish for another lesson.

She upended the container, and poured out the fine powder onto and around the sigils she'd drawn. Occasionally, she'd stop and check the wind, to make sure the night wind didn't disperse the element. It was a heavy element, true, but in powder form it was subject to being blown away, and she needed a certain amount, in a certain place, to accomplish what she wanted done.

Whatever it was.

"There," she said. Indicating a spot within the circle she'd drawn. "Stand over there." Still not seeing where this was going, blinded by his own arrogance, his certainty that he would get the upper hand sooner or later, Malchior did as he was told.

He didn't realize his mistake until it was far, far, too late.

….

Two hundred thirty-seven miles away, following a late night brainstorming session, Raven was walking down the hallway with Hank and Jasson when she stiffened suddenly, eyes rolling into the top of her head, and fell so quickly, it was as if the cold Earth itself had _sucked_ her down.

…

She came to, groggily, head and limbs both pounding, eyes bleary, to see Hank, Jasson and Omega standing over her in the Titans' sickbay. "Raven? What happened?" Hank asked, "You went down like a meteor. If Jasson, here, hadn't caught you in time, you could be nursing a broken nose."

She sat up. He offered her an cold-pack, and she pressed it to her head gratefully. "Remind me to thank him for saving me—_uh!_—plastic surgery." She sat for a moment, noting that Cyborg and Kitten were manning the diagnostic machines, and clearly looking puzzled at the readouts. "I'm serious, by the way. Thank you." To the others: "There was a colossal release of magical energy somewhere fairly close by, the arcane equivalent of a nuclear bomb. I…I guess I caught the, the fallout, to continue to use the analogy.

"But we need to investigate. Hank…Jasson, are you in on this with us? I know you and Deena can't stay here indefinitely…"

"It's okay, _mere._ We've got time. Plus," and here his face took on a mischievous look, "I think Deena's okay with staying here a little longer. Tell you about it later."

"Alright then. Kitten? I'll need you and Omega to assist…"

Shortly, on the same barren plane where Beulah Bleak had constructed her magic circle, a patch of darkness opened up, and up through it rose the forms of the Titans, with Raven in the lead. She gasped when she saw….

"Malchior!"

"What?" Omega looked around, scanning the area with his senses, as did Jasson, "I don't see him anywhere, Raven."

But Raven had walked over to the edge of the magic circle, which even then was beginning to disperse, hands over her mouth, an expression of shock on her face.

For within the circle, unrecognized, virtually unrecognizable, was a huge pile of ashes in a more-or-less dragon shape. Even as she watched, some of the ashes fell, the wind beginning to blow them away.

"Wait. _This_ is Malchior?" Kitten was puzzled. "Where's the bigness and badness? I mean, this is just…ashes…."

"It's all that's left of him. _Now_ I know what happened." She edged a little closer to the outskirts of the circle, careful to stay on the outside of it. "He was sacrificed, basically. Whoever stole my book, whoever freed him, led him here and sacrificed him. Dragons are huge sources of magical energy….that's what they needed the iridium for: the focus the spell. The effect was crude, but it worked. Otherwise, every living thing in the area would be…gone." The shock was still evident in her voice.

Years ago, when she was much younger, Malchior had toyed with her heart, lying to her, professing to love her, but only using her, to escape the confines of the magical book he'd been trapped in. She'd often daydreamed about revenge…but the reality of _this_ shook her to the core.

"So that's Malchior?" Kitten came over and glanced at Raven. "Well, I guess it's kinda fitting. He got his, didn't he?" Then, looking even harder at Raven. "Rae? You alright? I mean, it really couldn't have happened to a nicer dragon…"

Raven found her power of speech. Okay, this was bad. Actually, the word that came to her mind was _horrific_, but there was no point in saying so right then. "Y-yes. You, of course, are right." She looked around; perhaps there were some clues to be had here….she turned to the others to direct them to do the same…

"…_.not….dead…yet…"_ If dry leaves rustling in the wind could be given a voice, that voice would sound like what was emerging from the pile of ashes that had once been a powerful dragon. Raven jerked around, as did the others, rallying around her. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that what was left of the dragon entertained some notions of revenge…

"…_not…dead…yet….Hoped…you'd….come."_ Said the voice, _"held…on…long enough…"_

Raven came right up to the edge of the field. Any closer, and she'd be within the magical version of a radiation zone, a "hot" zone. She didn't dare go any further. But even this close, she had to strain her ears to hear the dry-leaf rustling sound. "Who did this, Malchior? Who's responsible?"

"…_Beulah Bleak. She…got the book. Had…cruciform…spells…woven into it."_

"But what was she wanting to _do?_" Raven asked. This sort of effort bespoke of more than a casual undertaking.

"…_something…she wanted to signal. Sent the signal…using…"_ and here the ash-pile seemed to cough, slightly. _"Don't know…what it is. But… signal has been….sent._

"_Was…overconfident. But listen…she did not take…the book."_

"She left the book?"

"_Yes. But…it's gone. Another took it."_ The place where Malchior's eyes had been seemed to focus on Raven, just for a moment. _"Raven…I..."_ But then the ash-pile could say no more, for it had collapsed in upon itself, the night winds beginning to disperse it.

…

Raven led the others back to the Tower. They were still in the process of outfitting their alternate HQ, Slade's former lair, and some things just felt more normal, there in their familiar "T" shaped building.

Raven retired to her room, visibly shaken. While she had entertained notions of revenge against Malchior, she found herself shuddering, inwardly, at the _cold-bloodedness_ of the act. Not that he hadn't deserved it, of course. Just…

"Rae?" Hank's voice came from just outside her door. "You alright in there?"

"Yes, Hank. I'm…alright." She crossed over to the door and let him in. "I'm just trying to put some things together."

"Like what this Beulah Bleak was trying to signal?"

"Precisely. I don't know what it was, or is, but I daresay it's not something dedicated to spreading peace, love, and puppy dogs throughout the universe." She turned to him. She could always turn to him for an emotional anchor point; just talking to him often helped clear her head. "I've got to try to find out what it is."

He went over and sat on her couch, and, after a moment, she joined him. "So…how could you go about doing that?"

"I don't know." She felt weary, like she didn't want to deal with this right now….

"Well," he said, "it's like she sent out a beacon, right? Aimed at a certain part of the sky. Would that tell you anything?"

"It might. I'll get with Omega tomorrow and see what's out there, in that general vicinity…though, if my hunch is right, there won't be anything visible." She rubbed her eyes tiredly. Her last conversation with the Entity had been…distressing. He'd told her what he needed from her, and she frankly wasn't sure she was up to the job. But there was nobody else….

"Look, Raven. You're exhausted. It's been a long day for you. Why don't you just go to bed? Sleep in, even. Everything'll keep until you get some rest."

"Am I that obvious?"

"You mean the way your eyes keep closing, and your head nods, then snaps back up? Yeah. 'Obvious' pretty well describes it."

"I feel like a fool."

"Now, we've _had_ this discussion." He got up and picked her up, bodily. She protested, weakly, even as he carried her over to her bed and placed her in it. Tucked her in. "Raven. We all depend on you. That means you gotta take care of yourself, but you also gotta let _us_ take care of _you_, when it's needed. So rest, okay?" He kissed her on the forehead, turned to go.

Her voice caught him at the door. "Hank?" He turned, looking back at her. "Just wanted to say…thanks. For…for everything." She smiled.

He smiled back. "Get some rest, Rae. Maybe all this will make more sense tomorrow." And he exited, turning out the light as he went.

She was asleep almost immediately.

…..

Out in the hallway outside of Raven's room, Kitten was waiting for Hank when he came out. "How is she?"

"Exhausted. And, I get the impression she's…maybe a bit horrified at what happened to Malchior." He glanced back at her closed door. "I know from experience that kinda thing takes its toll on you."

"Horrified? That glorified garden lizard got what was coming to him. _I_ wouldn't'a let him off _that_ easy."

Hank's normally kind face hardened. "To be honest, neither would I, considering what he put her through. But that isn't the point. She's tired. This role of being _leader_ takes it out of you, no matter what. She's still adjusting." He paused a moment. "Is Omega down in his lab?"

"Probably. Why?"

"I was wondering if he could do a retroactive scan of the night sky directly overhead that, uh, sacrificial site. If that whole thing was to send out a beacon, maybe he could narrow it down as to what general area of space we're talking about. That might give us some answers, or at least, better questions."

Grunt. "Dunno. But I'm on my way down there now. Wanna come along, see what he says?"

…..

"Hmm." Omega rubbed his chin, a gesture he'd picked up from the humans. "The problem with such a search is…it's virtually infinite. Even if one determines the diameter of the, the beam, if you will, it has no end point. Unless there's some sort of built-in self-limiting effect, such as the speed of light or the inverse square law. I lack the knowledge to know if such factors exist." He turned to his workstation, fiddled with the controls. "But were I to make assumptions…say, assuming the beam was relatively coherent, like a laser, and giving it a range of, oh, say two hundred lightyears, perhaps I can come up with something. I'll send out some probes, and contact the Hunters, see if they have any ships in that area."

"That's all we can ask. Well," Hank glanced at his watch. "Guess I'd better get on some stuff. I told her to sleep in; I hope nothing breaks wide open before she has the chance to get some real rest." And he left.

Once they were alone, Kitten turned to Omega. "You have any idea what to look for?"

The Osiran was still tapping away at his console, dragging one item to another group. "I…have some idea. And the general vicinity… I may be able, with the help of the Hunters, to locate it."

"What _is_ it?"

Distractedly. "Something…that does not belong here. Something from…somewhere else. A place where things are…very different." Even as he spoke, Kitten could hear the slight shuddering that announced the launching of several deep space probes. _Prob'ly gonna boom tube 'em all the way out there, wide angle dispersal, hope one of 'em gets lucky._ "Guess you can't be more specific than that, huh?"

"I'm sorry, Kitten. You know I would conceal nothing from you. The truth is, I'm not sure what it could be. Some reports indicate that it eradicates all organic molecules from the worlds it has affected. Others seem to indicate that it somehow…._consumes_ one's sanity or intellect. And we may be talking about two entirely different phenomenon altogether." He paused. "Kitten? Have you noticed that…something seems to be bothering Raven?"

She nodded, leaning up against a console, arms crossed in front of her. The tip of her tail twitched back and forth, back and forth, thoughtfully. "Yeah. She tries to put up a brave front, but…something's gnawing away at her, eating her up from the inside out. And she won't open up about it. It's like she's in denial. Which is of course nothing all that unusual for her." She hesitated. Then, "I kinda worry about her, on several different levels." And he saw what she was saying.

Fact: Their leader was part demon. Demons were seldom to be trusted. Fact: Their leader was young and inexperienced, albeit admittedly mature for her age. Fact: Raven was in communication with a being whose goals were all but incomprehensible to mortals.

And one more fact: Given Raven's notorious dislike of expressing her emotions, and occasional spectacular loss of control due to those emotions, did she herself know what she was going to do next?

Would it be wise to follow her unquestioningly?

The road to hell…

"I'm sure…"began Omega, "that it's nothing…of a severe nature. I believe Raven would tell us, were it so…"

"I hope so, 'Mega. I really hope so."

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5: Old Friends

Godwar Part 3: Chapter 5: Old Friends

Hank retired to his room. Truth to tell, he too was rather exhausted, and felt the need for rest. But he had to admit, things were looking like something was about to break wide open.

On their last case, it had been the death of a mill worker that had brought the Titans' attention to what ended up being one of their hardest cases. Now, an old foe, one bound to them, in a peculiar sort of way, had once again drawn them into the midst of this case. As far as Hank knew, nobody else even knew about Malchior or his death, not at this point. It was almost as though some third party or force had conspired, once again, to get their attention.

There are those who say that there is no such thing as coincidence, that all things that happen, happen for a reason. Hank wasn't sure about that, but he couldn't shake the notion that _this_ hadn't happened for no reason.

And how had Beulah Bleak even gotten the cursed book in the first place? It could easily make a great deal of difference; after all, it indicated a hole in their defenses of some sort or another. Of course, Hank didn't know anything about magic; he supposed Raven would be looking into that when she woke up.

Sighing, he sat down on his bunk, and was in the act of untying his shoes when he noticed his cell phone. His regular cell, not his Titans' T-cell, was flashing a "missed call" light.

He picked it up and glanced at the record. "Unknown number" was the readout, but there was another notation indicating a text: _Coming into twn 930. Catch a bro up?_

Hank looked long and hard at that message. There weren't many people on Earth who could call his private number and not leave a callback number. There also weren't very many who even knew his private number. Oh, he supposed Batman or some of the Bat-family (as some called them) would possess that sort of tech and savvy, but…there was one other he could think of. One he'd thought he'd left behind long ago.

He glanced at his clock. "_Eight thirty_?" He wouldn't even have time for a decent nap. Wearily, he got up, put his shoes back on, and headed out.

Jump City Airport was its usual pandemonium of sounds, passengers coming off planes and searching for luggage, a certain amount of which was probably headed for Singapore, and even more would-be passengers trying to get on the same planes, fighting their way past customs and security. He sat in the receiving area and waited. Although the message had been brief, terse, even, he still recognized it like a handshake.

A young man strolled casually through the terminal's exit lane, searching with his eyes. He spied Hank, and broke into a broad grin, giving him the "thumbs up" signal. Hank smiled back, nodded his head in recognition. He got up and moved towards the figure.

The young man had brownish-red hair, cut a bit longer than was standard military protocol, but neatly groomed and clean shaven. His hazel eyes met Hank's, and he stuck out his hand. They both grasped each other's forearms rather than hands, and went into a complicated gesture that was half man-hug and half test-of-strength. Hank grinned at the familiar gesture. Five years hadn't changed his friend, not one iota. "You got luggage?"

"Just this carry-on and one other thing." Mark McCoy was one of Hank's oldest friends from his time in the military, when they'd both served in Afghanistan. If he looked a day older, Hank couldn't tell it. He still had that crooked grin, and that same sparkle in his eyes that he'd probably always have.

The two had met during the conflict, and formed a bond that went beyond mere friendship. Mark had known Hank's brother, before David had met up with an IED. They'd served in the same unit, eaten the same cardboard MREs, hidden in the same trenches when the bullets started ricocheting.

Mark had been the first man in the service to call Hank a "nigger," and, subsequently, the first to get his ass kicked. But the following years had forged a bond between them that went far beyond mere skin color; as far as each other was concerned, mere genetics didn't matter; they were brothers.

Mark had his duffelbag. Hank smirked; knowing Mark, it probably contained a change of underwear, socks, and about a dozen paperback books, all of them dog-eared in different places. Some things never change.

But the heavy duty valise he got off the rotary rack was new. Hank frowned, looking at it. "What'cha got in there?"

Mark snagged the case and turned to him. "Tell ya later. Meanwhile, what was the name of that place you were telling me about?"

Soon, they found themselves in The Wild Bore tavern, with Mark digging his way through a pile of onion rings that looked big enough to require two plates. And normally, they would. But that was one reason Hank liked the place: the plates—and the portions-were bigger. He'd tried bringing Raven here once, just because he thought she'd enjoy the free-and-loose ambience of the place. He'd built up the place a little, in her mind, telling her all about the great people who ran it (a nice couple, and their children), to the excellent food (you could have anything you wanted, as long as it was a cheeseburger and french fries/onion rings, with some variables for breakfast), to the Saturday night fights.

Afterwards, Raven had expressed a misconception: she'd thought the fights were to be on television. "But where's the fun in that?" he'd asked her.

Hank himself was chowing down on a "side" of scrambled eggs, wishing he had a garden trowel rather than a fork. The two ate in silence for a while. Hank noticed that, although Mark had left his duffelbag in the car, he'd carried the valise in personally, and always made sure it was never far from his hand. Knowing Mark's proficiency in hand-to-hand, Hank doubted anybody this side of Batman could've gotten from him.

Which troubled him all the more, as he had a disturbing idea as to what was in it.

Finally, the two reached a point, not so much of satiety, but of sufficiency. "Word is, you've been busy," said Mark, wiping his mouth and hands.

Hank nodded. "The Titans. Yeah, that's me. Never figured I'd be the superhero type, but it just goes to show you. You?"

"The same, brother, the same." Mark paused, and for some reason, Hank tensed a little. Some subliminal signals he was getting… "There's been Talk." The way he said it, Hank could hear the capital "T".

His face carefully neutral, Hank sipped his coffee. The coffee was strong enough, as always, to float a spoon, but, with Mark's words echoing through his head, it suddenly seemed a bit weak. "Talk?"

"Yeah. You know. Talk. About…things. The old unit."

Hank set his cup back down. He could think of about three hundred fifty-seven things he'd rather be talking about right then… "That…would take some doing."

"Yeah. Word is, something Big's going on." He said _that_ so Hank could hear the capital, too.

"Big."

"Big. As in, End Big. There's talk of reactivating the old unit."

Another pause, while Hank sought the right words. "Anything you can tell me?"

"Not out here. But…" And here his voice dropped a notch or two. "Word is, it's really Big. Something's about to happen, bro. Thought you should know."

"That why you're here?"

Mark shook his head, signaling the waitress. "Beer. For two." He handed her three twenties. "Keep the change." As she hastened off, he turned back to Hank. "No. I'm here…just to let you know. Nobody knows anything yet, not officially, anyway. But consider this a head's up. You…" He shook his head again. "I know you've…moved on. But you an' me both, we still got…an obligation. We did swear a solemn oath, Hank. That still binds us." He looked up as the waitress brought two frosted mugs, set them down in front of them. "You could be recalled."

Hank sat and looked at his beer. His old unit. Mark wasn't talking about some ordinary military unit you could be mustered out of. Oh, no. Not this unit. The only way you really got beyond being recalled to active duty was if you left feet first. And even then… "I. I, have…other obligations, too, Mark." His thoughts were awhirl, but right then, all he could see was a certain purple haired sorceress.

"I know, bro. I've seen her pic. She's some kinda fine, I'll say that. And…because of that…there's something else I gotta tell ya." He leaned closer, ever so slightly, automatically tilting his head in that manner people use when they don't want to be overheard, but don't wish to be obvious about it. "I found…a loophole in the regs. A clause. There _is_ a way you could keep from being recalled. I mean, if it came to that." He paused. "Do…do you wanna know what it is?"

Hank knew what he was being asked. _Do you want to know a way to get out of what you once solemnly swore you'd do?_ Perhaps not quite so harshly phrased, but… "No, Mark. I did swear an oath. If the Outfit needs me, I'm there. The Titans…will just have to understand. And…" He broke off. Could he, was he prepared to part from someone who was rapidly becoming his other half? To leave without explanation? To depart, never to return?

He might have to.

…

"Whaddaya mean, she _can't_ talk?"

Angelique blew out a sigh and rolled her eyes. For somebody who was supposed to be so smart, this little bald kid was awfully slow on the uptake. "Just that, _moron_. Her people, the Osirans, don't communicate by sound. They can hear just fine, but they don't have vocal chords, since they communicate by a kind of artificial telepathy called Link. Think of it like internet inside your head."

Gizmo's eyes widened to twice their normal size. She'd just said the magic word. "Whoa. Seriously? Internet? Inside her _head?_" Deena looked back and forth between them, following the conversation.

"Well, you understand, it's not like what _you'd_ call the internet. It's more of a communication system. But yeah, it also stores information, data, programs, etc. Kinda like cloud storage, I guess, 'cept everybody in it, is the cloud. The matrix. Sort of."

Gizmo's eyes took on a look that seemed focused on infinity, and he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "_Ooo_oh. Soooo keeewwwl. Yeah. Yeah, I c'n see how…it'd haveta work like, like a wide-area network, but translight…and with the system, or, or something like it, being the server, rather than a physical object...'s gotta be based on quantum entanglement, you can't build an interstellar empire on _radio_, or anything else that's restricted to lightspeed, everybody knows that, and tachyons are too…too broadcast. Security problems… But the _processing power! _Man, that's…awesome…..no, make that _beyond_ awesome…" He got up and started pacing, again with that faraway look. Angelique wondered: if a lightning bolt hit him right then, would he even notice? "Yeah. Yeah! I think I see how it would work, even!" Excitedly, he started looking around the room where the three of them had been watching TV and began hunting for something electronic he could take apart…

"Gizmo! You leave that alone! No, not that either! No, no, no! Not…don't you even think about taking apart Mr. Garfield's Playstation! I'm telling!"

…..

One PS4, an old Xbox, two tablets, a half dozen clock radios, an electronic bathroom scale and a wire coat hanger later, he had a circuit board cobbled together, with Angelique's reluctant help. One thing Angelique was learning about Gizmo: once he got an idea in his head, there was no stopping him. He didn't care about anything or anybody, and even ignored the needs of his own body. He only ate when he was forced to, and a couple of times, she'd had to drag him to the rest room and threatened to accompany him inside to make sure he used it so he didn't wet himself. He'd patiently built and rebuilt the circuit board, in complete contrast to his normal irascible and impatient demeanor. "What's this thing supposed to do?" she asked, her curiosity aroused in spite of herself.

"Uses a kind of induction principle. 'S gotta be how this Link works; I mean, they're invulnerable. So…this bypasses that." He spoke in a distracted manner that told her he'd never be able to recall even having this conversation later. Deena looked over their shoulders, curious as to what Gizmo's increasingly-complicated device would do. "Their wave-function interface—the skin-remains intact, but the info gets across. And, being based on quantum entanglement means you can't push a whole gigajoule full of power through it, fry the brain of the recipient. At the same time, it's secure. Of course! I should'a thought a' this years ago!"

"But you still haven't said what it's supposed to _do._ If it's just to let her talk, Father Alpha's already got machines to do that."

"Frack on _that._ Yeah, this'll let her vocalize her thoughts…oh, and something else: she's gotta know English, or some spoken language for it to work…but, if I've done it right, this'll help _me_ access that internet-in-her-head thing!"

The two girls looked horrified. Deena looked _personally _scared. She might think Gizmo was cute, but that didn't mean she wanted him rummaging around inside her skull…just the opposite, in fact. "Gizmo! You can't just hack into the Link like that! You'll fry _your_ brain!"

"Will you please not be any more stupid than you haveta be? I'm not about to shoehorn my wetware into an alien communications network. Not right away, anyway. First, I gotta see if I can even make a connection. Then, amp down the juice. Modulation. Then, translation…and _that's_ gonna take some doin', all by itself…I doubt this Link uses anything like binary code, that's already grampa stuff, even with us…'s probably a quantum-based probability read system…yeah, yeah! That would account for the processing power, I mean, we're talkin' teraflops, at least…maybe petaflops…maybe more…then buffers and filters…" He saw their expressions. "What? I know what I'm doing!"

"Gizmo!" Gar's voice was practically a roar. He'd just come into the living room and was gazing in horrified disbelief at the ruins of his beloved gaming system. "What ARE you doing!?"

"Can it, greenie, I got this," said Gizmo distractedly. Then he noticed Garfield's _dangerous_ expression. "Look, I'll build you a better one, okay? Just don't freak out on me here. Here. You got, like, a garage or someplace where we can test this? Or better still, someplace just outside, out in the open? I don' wanna blow up anyplace I'm standin' in."

_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6: Preparations

Godwar Part 3: Chapter 6: Preparations

_I don't own the Teen Titans. But if you'd like to see what Gwen Logan Markov looks like, check out Nancy171112's portrait of "Beast Girl" on Devianart. I highly recommend it. She's a really talented artist._

Titans' Tower: Hank lay in bed, wide awake, even though he was exhausted from the events of the previous night and this morning.

Mark hadn't stayed long. Just long enough to give him the "heads up" regarding the distinct possibility of being recalled to active duty. Now Hank had to decide what to do with that.

When his tour of duty was over in Afghanistan, he'd been approached by a plainclothes man who had identified himself simply as "Mr. Smith." Hank had thought he was about to be asked to re-up, but, as it turned out, that was not the case.

He'd been shown some things, once he'd been cleared, security-wise, that had shocked him beyond belief. Not too many years before, Hank would've thought that there was no fate worse than death, other than the possibility of the Hell his pastor, the Reverend Jackie Reed, had preached about. And, in truth, once he really, really examined his own deepest feelings, he couldn't say he really believed in Hell, at least, not the one everybody talked about: deep caverns, fire, red devils with pitchforks prancing about. He didn't doubt but that there were some pretty bad places to be, beyond this life, but he'd always felt it was a bit more complicated than that.

But what he'd seen…there was no doubt. This organization, this Ouroboros, might not actually be from Hell itself, but it certainly fit the candidacy requirements better than anything else he'd ever heard of. He'd wasted no time signing up. And, he'd understood, at the time, that he would be subject to recall at some point in the future. It…really all depended on…developments.

But when he'd left the Outfit, he'd sincerely thought his time in it was done. They'd beaten back the Enemy, won some important battles, though, of course, as was the nature of such a covert war, never anything absolutely decisive. But sufficient enough so that most of his unit, the upper echelons included, were satisfied that all was well for now.

Apparently, their celebrations might be proving to be premature.

…..

_Across hypertime:_ Gwendolyn Markov woke up alone in her bed. That was unusual. Terry usually slept in, at least until she woke up. Mornings were…especially fun.

Some latent instinct sent her padding barefoot into the kitchen. Married life had changed her little, but, instead of the "grumpy cat" sleep shirt she used to wear, she now wore a more conservative outfit: oversize tee (easily and quickly removable, of course, should the need arise—and it frequently did), but with a robe thrown over it. A navy blue robe: it had been one of Ray's wedding presents to the new couple. He'd given them a matching set. "Married people wear robes, Gwen," he'd said, firmly. "Get used to it." She'd just stuck her tongue out at him, making him laugh for the first time since…well, since a very long time ago. That was always music to her ears.

Terry was sitting in the dining room. Outwardly, he looked as though he had just gotten out of bed: that adorable blond hair of his tousled, sleep pants on, robe thrown on over 'em, but not tied. But even as she entered the room, she could tell something was wrong. "What is it?"

For a moment, he didn't answer her. Then, "I just got off the phone with Chancellor Butusov." Her ears pricked up, quite literally. Butusov was Terry's official liaison for his native country of Markovia. He swallowed. "Brianna's dead."

"_What?_ What? I mean…_What_!" Brianna was Terry's older sister. "How…how did she…?"

He leaned forward and rubbed his face with his hands. "They don't know yet. They just found her dead, in her suite at the castle. Nobody knows anything yet but…given the…state of things…Gwen, I'm hoping I'm wrong but…"

She came over and sat in his lap, pushing him back against the back of the chair, and brushing his hair back. There oughtta be a law against him looking this kissable this early in the morning, she thought. But if there was, it would be one she hoped he'd routinely flout. "You don't believe it was natural causes, do you?" It was not really a question.

Terrance "Terry" Markov and Gwendolyn "Gwen" Logan Markov had only been married a short time, but they'd been together for several years now. And, in that peculiar way that some couples have, they'd developed an almost esper-like ability to tell what the other was thinking. "No, Gwen, I don't. It's just too…too convenient. Too coincidental. Jalid was just about to sign a treaty with Markovia, that would've strengthened both nations against foreign aggression. Now…you know father's in poor health. Now his daughter, the one everyone took to be his successor, is dead. It throws everything into confusion." He paused, looking far off. She could tell he was trying to focus on the facts, rather than the _feelings_ he was having. Brianna? His sister? _Dead_?

She hugged his head to her. "Terry, I know…sort of what you're going through. Bree—I can't imagine her dead. I mean, she was always so…so strong. But before you can go on, you need to let this out." She could feel him shudder as the tears came, yet again…

After a few minutes, he managed to pull himself together. "Gwen," he sniffed, with her still sitting on his lap, "You know what this probably means." And she nodded. She did.

While the small kingdom of Markovia was not a true monarchy, it nonetheless had a long line of royalty, dating back to the time of the Crusades, who, while their rule was not absolute, still played an important part in the politics of that region. Terry's father had been in poor health for some time; now Bree was dead. There was only one clear successor left.

Without that successor, other nations would be hesitant to support the country. International lenders might begin to see them as more of a financial liability than they really were. Factions within the nation would begin to jockey for political advantage; infighting—more infighting-was a distinct possibility. And aggressor nations would be ever alert for any sign of weakness…

They'd both long ago decided neither of them owed the Markovian king so much as the time of day. He'd seen fit to exile Terry when the latter had been twelve, for reasons that were still unclear. But Terry had maintained his relationship with his older sister, whom he'd loved as the only family he'd ever had, or recognized as having, until he'd met Gwen. Now… "We'll at least need to, to make…arrangements. I mean, the council can't—well, make that, _probably won't _make…you know…burial arrangements…."

"Terry…honey, listen. If this was really no accident, whoever did it is probably hoping you'll rush right on in. So…let's bring in some of the big guns on this, okay? A little caution never hurt anybody. And it's not like we haven't got…resources to draw on that others don't. And besides," and here she kissed his forehead, drawing his gaze up to hers, a lopsided smile on a face he felt defined the word "cute": "I want our kids to know their father. You go an' get yourself killed on me an' I swear I'll never speak to you again."

…..

"_Of course_," said Ray's image on the screen. "_It hasn't made the news yet, but I have my sources. Terry, you…have my condolences. I am sorry for your loss."_

"Thanks, Ray. But now, I guess the only thing for me to do is go there and, and, at the very least see to her…funeral." He'd cried his tears out; now he felt a peculiar kind of numbness.

"_If I may, I would recommend you hold off on that for a bit. Let me do some checking; some of my 'contacts' can also see to it that this news doesn't hit the media for a while. Like you, I find this timing far too convenient. It smells of a trap."_

"Well, I mean, okay, but I _have_ got to go, sooner or later…"

"_Upon which they—whoever they may be-are no doubt counting. But one of the first things one learns in any battle, magical or otherwise, is preparation. Give me a day. There may be ways to lessen the risk to you and to Gwen."_ The image of the tall purple haired sorcerer smiled slightly. _"I hope I'm merely being paranoid. But even if I am, being paranoid doesn't automatically mean nobody's out to get you."_

"Okay, Ray. We'll hold off. You'll let us know when and what you've come up with? Okay. Well, uh. We'll, we'll be here." And Terry closed the connection.

In another time zone, the sorcerer known to most variations of humanity and a few others as Ray Roth stood, cloak drawn around him, looking up at the monitor screen for a moment. As sure as he knew his name, he knew this was a trap, and a trap designed specifically to capture, with no doubt malicious intent, his two friends. Most probably Terry, but he couldn't rule out that the same trap could be intended to serve double duty and trap Gwen as well.

"Honey?" said a voice from the door. "Is everything alright?" Hailey moved into the room.

"No_._" And he told her about Terry's sister's death. "I feel as they do: this is too convenient, coming at this time. It's almost certainly a trap. But by whom? And for what purpose?" He sighed, running his finger across the communications console, careful not to touch it too long or get too close. Sometimes machines, especially complicated ones, seemed to take exception to his presence. "I wish Robin were here. But I understand that he and Starfire…need their time alone ."

She came into his arms. "So will we, soon enough." Her smile faded. "But what will you do about Gwen and Terry?"

He bit his lip. "I'm not sure. But…there are…certain safeguards I can provide them with. And, of course, I will check with Batman; Robin left that contact information. It also won't hurt if certain members of the Justice League are apprised of their situation…and our fears."

She stroked his arm. At five five, she barely came up to his chin, but he knew that slight frame housed a wiry strength honed by experience, both in the military and during her time with the Titans. Robin himself had trained her, and trained her well. He couldn't think of many people he'd rather have guard his back. "Well, you ARE one of the most powerful sorcerers on Earth right now. If you can't do it, it probably can't be done."

"That last part…is the stuff of my nightmares."

…..

_KABOOM!_ This time, nobody even looked surprised.

Gizmo's first five attempts to establish an artificial bridge with Deena's Link system had, so far, been met with a spectacular lack of success. "Give it up, Giz," huffed Angelique, hands on her hips. "All you're doing is blowing stuff up."

"All I'm doing _so far_ is blowing stuff up. But the very fact that I'm getting such a strong feedback signal means I'm onto _something._ If there wasn't anything there, there'd be no reaction. I just gotta modulate it, that's all." He frowned at the makeshift console he cobbled together. "But what I don't understand is why…I'm getting discrepancies in the reading. I mean, they're all passive sensors, they should all read the same…"

"Maybe you're just not smart enough!"

Gizmo did a slow burn. _I wish Deena wasn't the only one who couldn't talk._ But he'd learned, early on, not to antagonize Angelique. And, for some reason, he found himself not really wanting to antagonize Deena…after all, it wasn't the stupid little girl's fault she couldn't talk. He wrestled his mind back onto the problem. "But it makes no sense. _Pi_ is _pi,_ just like _e_ is _e._ Those are universal constants, they shouldn't change." Then his eyes widened. "Unless, of course, they did."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell you in minute." His hands began to cobble together an altogether different motherboard. "Now…to hook this up to a monitor…"

"You've run out of monitors, nitwit! You used 'em all up, making your blow-up devices. You don't have any left!"

He eyed her speculatively, making her nervous. "Maybe…maybe not…."

….

Across hypertime: Ray was meeting with Terry and Gwen at the Tower. "Here." He handed them four seemingly ordinary copper bracelets, ornately inscribed. "Wear these at all times. They are designed to ward off negative influences, while at the same time serving as, as magical transponders, I suppose you'd say. I'll be able to track you with the use of these."

"And if _that_ fails," said Hailey, bring up Cyborg and his hypospray, "we've also a subcutaneous version." She and Cyborg swiftly injected the transponders into their upper arms, just beneath their skin.

"Now," said Ray, steeling himself. This next part was going to be the hardest. "I want you two to come over here—right over here in the magic circle—yes, just like that. I can't make the two of you bulletproof, but I can make you highly resistant to most toxins and bacteriological agents…and…one other thing." And he tilted his head back, eyes closed, lips moving without producing any sound. The two of them could literally _feel_ the build-up of magical energies swirling about them. What was he up to? "What's this one for, Ray?"

For a moment, he didn't answer. Then, "This spell will enable the two of you to teleport back here instantaneously, from wherever you are. The only catch is: you both have to be touching when you activate it. You work it like this: join hands, or in some other way establish physical contact with the other, and say, '_teleportare.'_ That's not a common-usage word, so I set the spell to respond to it. It'll be a one way trip, straight back here. And I can't stress this enough: it'll only work if the two of you are touching. Got it? You both have to say it in unison. But it'll get you back here from pretty much anywhere in the known universe, and a few extradimensional realms, as well. Though I can't guarantee perfect results if you're trying to get out of, say, Nekron's dimension or something…but even then, it should work."

"Good enough, Ray. Yeah, neither of us would leave without the other anyway." Gwen threw her arms around him. She barely came up to his chest. "Thanks, 'big brother'."

Terry stuck out his hand. "Thanks, Ray. Hopefully, none of this will be needed…."

"I hope not." With any luck, they'd never know just what and how much it had cost him to "purchase" the spell, to weave it into the very fabric of existence. Most lay people thought that you could just do anything with magic. But that wasn't so. The energy had to come from somewhere. And, like everything else, there was always a price to pay. Somewhere along the line. By somebody. _Change the subject. _"Anyway, when does your flight leave?"

_To be continued…_


	7. Chapter 7: Going Underground

Godwar Part 3: Chapter 7: Going Underground

"I can't believe I'm doing this," grumbled Angelique, even as she morphed herself into a wide-screen monitor. Gizmo connected a few devices, made some calibrations. Deena looked on over his shoulder.

"Okay, here's the thing. Look. Or can you, while you're like that? You can? Good. See, here's the log of the reading I got just an hour ago. Now, here's the current reading. Notice anything?"

"Yeah, your finger's on my face."

"I _mean_, doofus, that these figures haven't been constant. _They've changed._"

Angelique wasn't sure she got it, but she was beginning to. "You mean…"

"Exactly." Gizmo scowled. "For a brief time, one or more of the fundamental laws of reality changed. Then changed _back_." He sat back in the lawn chair, gnawing on a fingernail, while Angelique morphed back into her human form. "And that just _doesn't happen_. They're called 'fundamental laws' because they're _fundamental._ If a _fundamental_ law changes, even for a brief moment, it would mean…" His eyes grew big and his face grew pale. "Who…who do you guys know in the big leagues? I mean, major heavy hitters?"

….

"Yes, Gar?" Raven had been able to get some sleep, but the simple fact is, the day will not wait for a person to catch up with it. Things keep happening. Things like this.

"_Gizmo's been doing some tinkering, trying to access the Osirans' Link. But he's come across something that scares even him. Here, I'll put him on."_ The picture on the screen changed slightly, as Gizmo's bald head filled the screen. _"Greenie ain't whistling Dixie when he says it scares me. You guys got anything in the way of deep sky or space probes?"_

"As a matter of fact, we do." She debated on whether or not to tell him about Omega's lab, then decided on an incomplete summary. "One of our members has launched some deep space probes, in response to…a suspected anomaly."

"_For God's sakes, tell him to call 'em back. The last thing we need is anything out there pointing the way back here."_

"I will relay your concern. But…it may well be too late. The probes have been out for a while now. Why? What have you come across?"

"_Passive scans of nearby space indicate a fluctuation in certain fundamental laws of space-time. In plain English, reality just blinked. Like a universal brown-out."_

She frowned. "What could have caused that?"

"_No clue. But everything's connected. If one of those probes finds, or in some way detects whatever I sensed, it could be like leading a trail back here. Do I have to tell you that would be bad?"_

Another frown. This sounded very similar to what both Omega had detected, and what the Entity had warned her about. "Alright. But tell me your fears. I need more information than just 'it's bad.'"

The image of kid genius blew out a sigh. _"It isn't that easily explained, not without the math to back it up. But we could be looking at a false vacuum collapse. An imminent one. Starting here."_

"False vacuum?" It had long been theorized that the universe existed at a certain quantum energy level above its true vacuum state. In fact, that had been one of the main differences between the universe of the Osirans and this one: theirs had existed at a higher energy level, allowing for different patterns of evolution. But neither one had existed at _zero_ energy level; to do so would mean….

…nonexistence, essentially.

And if there was a fluctuation happening, on the quantum level… "I understand your concern. But you seem to have some fears beyond a 'simple' disturbance."

"_Darn right I do. Have you ever wondered what sort of life forms a zero energy level universe might give rise to? And what they'd seek out? Like, oh, maybe, energy? Or anything leading to energy? And any deep space probes have got to have some connection back here, or there's no point in sending them out. Right?"_

"Very well. I'll convey your concerns." A suspicion was beginning to form in her mind: the Entity's words, what it wanted her to do, the reports of the Hunters regarding the desolate sector they'd passed through, the Gordanians who'd kidnapped Starfire and what had happened to them, combined with the magical "beacon" Beulah Bleak had sent…out into deep space. "You think there's a chance we might get some unwelcome company?"

"_I think it's already here."_

…_.._

The Hunter starship _Deson_ approached the designated area very carefully. Omega had apprised them of Gizmo's warning, and of the condition of the Gordanian slavers they'd encountered. Shields were up and at maximum, with all sensors set for coarse/passive data only. No active sensors.

Talks to God was not on the bridge, but Seer had a direct line to him. Anything they found out would be instantly communicated to him, and to the piece of The One that was currently traveling with them. The great starship was ever so slowly scanning the area for anything that didn't belong. Without active scanners, however, that was a slow process.

Seer chafed at the rate of their discoveries, but he hadn't risen to his current rank by being unwise. For right now, the safety of the ship and its crew was paramount; all the information in the universe would do them no good if they were in no shape to relay it. "Tactical. Anything?"

"No, sir. The shielded visual scans aren't reporting anything. Maybe we could drop the shielding just a bit?"

Seer dithered. It _was_ tempting…but then he remembered the reports Omega had sent them, on the shape of the Gordanians who'd encountered the very thing they sought. "No. Continue scanning as you are." He touched a comm. pad on a low ridge that served him as the arm of a chair, the normal Hunter "seated" position being to simply lower oneself into a nest of cushions. This particular link went straight to Talks. "Does The One sense anything, Talks?"

"_Let me ask."_ There was a brief pause. Then, _"There is something here. The One senses it, but it is diffuse, vague. However, The One is advising extreme caution."_

"We will certainly do-*"

"Sir!" Sharpens the Blade, at his post at the weapons console, spoke up, his voice alive with alarm. "Sir, all weapons just locked onto something!"

"Passive scans only, repeat, passive scans only. But can you determine the thing's position by where it is _not?_"

"Trying, sir…" After a few moments, "Sir, I'm getting multiple targets, with strong feedback signals emanating from each one. I've got them blocked, otherwise, we'd be losing targeting sensors. Orders?"

"Determine the position of the…objects. Talks?" On the viewscreen by his couch, Talks' head inclined towards him. "Can The One tell us anything this close?"

"_Only that we should leave. It seems whatever we've found is of such nature that it defies even The One's ability to identify it."_

"Then leave we shall. Navigations! Plot us a course out of here, avoiding those anomalies. Communications…Hamstrings, get in touch with Omega…"

"Sir!" Sharpens the Blade spoke up in alarm. "The, the targeting sensors have picked up more anomalies!" He looked over at his captain. "We're surrounded, sir!"

…..

The Logans' house: Gizmo had finally persuaded Gar to let him use the secure, satellite based internet link system he had. "Thank God for Google Earth," he muttered. The others, Angelique, Deena, Garfield and Terra, looked on with interest. This was a side to Gizmo they'd never seen before. An _intense_ side. Maybe even a _scared_ side.

"How does Google Earth help?"

"I needed to know just where we're located. Ah. Here." He pointed out a small spot on the screen. "Here we are. Now…." He searched, moving the pointer over, checking the latitude and longitude. "It should be…right about here. Yeah. That should be it." He stopped scrolling and took note of the surroundings.

"What? What are you looking for?"

"A place I'd heard about, but never been to. Yeah. That's gotta be it, not all that far from here, either. C'mon."

…..

Raven was walking down the corridor toward her room when she felt what could only be described as a sharp _sting_ or concussive pain all over her body. Images, horrific images, flooded her mind. Images she could tell didn't come from her.{{Orb? What is it?}}

**{{Pain. Disorientation. Discoporation. Termination. I have died.}}**

{{_What?_}} Died?

**{{A part of me has died. That….that has never happened before. I…}}**

{{What do you mean?}}

But the Orb made no reply.

….

"I fail to see, "said Athena, "Why this is of such importance." She and Blackfire were shopping at the local mall.

"It just is. Your natural skin color…nothing wrong with it, but a black swimsuit just doesn't go with it. Maybe something in red…."

"Can I help you?" A large, matronly woman came over to them, her employee tag dangling from her collar. She was well-dressed in a floral outfit of red and black, and wearing oddly pointed eyeglasses that apparently doubled as dark sunshades. Her name tag read, "Ms. Evans."

"Uh, maybe." Blackfire was acutely aware, and on the lookout for, the "demon saleslady" the others had told her about. For some reason, one of the workers here not only possessed positively fantastic (though apparently not supernatural) powers of persuasion, but was also more than dedicated to stripping all females associated with the Titans down to the barest legal minimum of clothing, and, if possible, beyond. Blackfire looked around, but didn't see anybody that looked all that threatening. Demons were usually pretty obvious. Weren't they? Anyway, this person looked harmless enough. "We're looking for a swimsuit for my friend here. Oh, and while we're at it, maybe some, y'know, sleep apparel. Pajamas or something."

"Hm." The woman looked Athena up and down, appraisingly. "Yes, yes, I think I have just the thing." She stood off to one side, still looking Athena up and down. "Hm. Maybe, as you said, something in red….but what shade? There are so many. Here." She reached a decision, and rummaged through the stacks until she found what she was looking for. "Here, dear. Try this one on." She handed the bikini to Athena.

Blackfire looked doubtfully at the suit. It seemed kinda…small. But maybe that was just because Athena was so tall; at six feet, it wasn't always easy to find clothes properly sized for her. "Uh, sure. Go ahead, 'Thena. Try it on. I'll wait out here."

….

Raven went to the Orb's room, but found the alien entity to be as unresponsive in "person," as it was from a distance. She touched her communicator. "Omega? Do you have contact with the _Deson?"_

"_No. I was just about to call you. Contact was lost five minutes ago, and I cannot seem to re-establish it. I fear the worst."_

"So do I. Do you have their last known whereabouts?"

…

"Uhm, Blackfire? I, I really don't know about this…"

"Oh, trust me, dearie. It's what all the young women are wearing these days. Just look in any fashion magazine. Now, as for sleeping apparel…I have _just_ the thing."

….

"What, exactly, are we looking for?" Angelique and Deena had followed Gizmo, along with Gar and Terra, to a cave deep in the Rockies. A cave conspicuously absent from any maps.

"Something I heard somebody tell about. I never gave it much thought, but it might be just the thing. At least, temporarily." He frowned in concentration, holding his cobbled-together PDA, the wearable light on his head guiding his way. Angelique, of course, didn't need it, and neither did Deena, but Gar and Terra felt better for being able to see the techno-kid. Although, he was acting surprisingly civilized for a change…well, Gar reasoned, he had to have _some_ social skills, just to get along in whatever group he found himself in. Even to the small degree that he did.

Gizmo paused, wetting one finger and holding it up. "This way," he said, leading the way into the stygian darkness of the cavern. Presently, they came to a large opening that appeared to be deliberately cut from the solid rock around them. "This…could be it." He fumbled with his headlight, expanding the beam and flashing it across the interior of the cavern.

And the others gasped as the beam illuminated a whole underground _city_, apparently deserted, underneath a huge expanse of cavernous space. Angelique morphed into a searchlight, revealing houses and buildings stretching onward into the distance, apparently not stopping even at the edge of her beam. "What is all this, Giz?" asked Gar.

"Somethin' the US government built back in the Cold War days, when they thought any day would see the nukes a'flyin'. The head guys wanted a place they could run to, not just a shelter, but a whole underground city they could run things from. This place is several miles below ground, behind layer upon layer of solid rock," and here, he gestured overhead, "which was reinforced every which way you could imagine. Take a twenty-megaton bunker buster to get down here, if even that would do it." He flashed his light around. "Place was supposed to be completely self-sufficient, has its own water, air, power supply. And communications, such as they were in those days, o' course. No cell phones. Anyway, they probably wouldn't a' had 'em down here. Landlines to the surface, more'n likely. Dunno about satellite communications.

"But it was basically forgotten about, with a little help. Once Russia caved, some of the bigwigs figured it wouldn't do for We the Sheeple to know they'd been prepared to rabbit at the first hint of a missile attack. Not to mention squandering all that money to build a shelter just for them. So they basically erased it from the ledger books, burned all the files…you get the picture.

"Thing is, it's all complete, still. Oh, there's probably some decay, but nothing a little elbow grease won't fix up. Everything down here was built to outlast civilization itself, remember. They had all the equipment and spare parts they figured they'd need and then some. No resupply. Not with everything topside a nuclear slag pile." He continued to shine his light, first one way, then the other, assessing those areas he figured needed the most immediate attention.

"Aaand…you're looking for this place why?" Gar was thinking of the Titans' alternate HQ, in what had once been Slade's old fortress, back in Jump City. Did they really need this?

Gizmo shot him an irritated look. "Get a clue, Greenie. Attack from space. O'course…" Here he paused, another worried expression etching his features. "If I'm right-an' for the first time in my life, I really really hope I'm not—all those miles of rock overhead will be about as effective as thin air."

_To be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8: Fears

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3, Chapter 8: Fears

_The character of Alice is used with permission by walkerjordan963. Thank you!_

"X'hal," breathed Blackfire, looking at herself in the mirror. The two were back at their room at Titans' Tower, and she was modeling the "apparel" the saleslady had talked her into buying. "I might as well have bought cellophane." The teddy she was wearing somehow managed to reveal more than it concealed. It was breathable, though.

Athena was critically inspecting her own purchase. "If I understand Earthly customs and mores correctly," she said, "I am really unsure if this is…entirely appropriate." The bathing suit she'd bought seemed to consist of a scarlet nothingness held together by the merest suggestion of a whisper. "Blackfire, I am not sure this is legal."

Blackfire turned one way, then the other, still eyeing the diaphanous gown she was almost wearing. She had to admit, it was nice looking, to the extent that anything you can barely see can be said to be "nice looking." Why, exactly, had she bought this? She didn't remember. It just seemed like a good idea at the time. _Something tells me we ran into the Demon Saleslady after all. _"I…guess we'd have to check the regs, 'Thena. It wouldn't do for heroes to get arrested for indecent exposure." Then, "Doesn't this seem…a trifle…sorta…_not here_ to you?"

"Indeed. It does." Blackfire noticed her friend was doing her best _not_ to look at her. Splotches of silver—an Osiran blush—were appearing on her cheeks.

"Athena, you're _blushing!"_ Athena didn't say anything, but merely kept her attention resolutely elsewhere. "But _why?_ I mean, you've got that X-ray vision, what do you call it, ultrascan, right? _All_ clothes are transparent to you!"

"That does not mean," said Athena firmly, "that I use it frivolously. Or for prurient interest." _At least, not that I am willing to admit to._

Blackfire giggled. It was fun to see the Osiran discomfited so. Her cheeks were like tiny mirrors. "No way can I resist this. Here. Get an eyeful. I wanna check this out." And she faced Athena squarely, throwing open the already see-through negligee, displaying herself to the fullest to her roommate.

"Blackfire!" Athena was aghast, holding her hands up in front of her, as though to ward off the sight. But she seemed to have a hard time looking away.

Blackfire approached her embarrassed friend. "This is just _so cool._ I can _see_ myself in your cheekbones!" She stood up on tiptoe to get a better look at the taller woman's face. "Hi, there!" she waved to her own reflection. It was like seeing herself in a fish-eye lens security camera.

"Are we having fun yet?" asked Athena, tersely. She thought to herself that she really ought to be used to such shenanigans from the Tameranean by now, but somehow, Blackfire always managed to do this to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Athena!" said Blackfire, throwing her arms around her friend. Then a pause. "Well, okay, actually, I'm not, but you know. Tell you what," she said, looking up at Athena, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "How about we save these for….you know. Later, maybe?"

_Later? What could she mean by that?_ Athena wondered, nervously.

…..

Like a submarine's sonar returning a _ping!_, her senses detected another one of _them, _not far away_._ She uncoiled from the darkness, her every sense alert. She'd fed recently, but she knew the Hunger would come back, and, every time she denied it, would get a little stronger, and stronger still, until she lost control and blacked out. When that happened….she didn't like to think about that. But there was no need for any of that to happen, so long as she could feed on these Others.

She'd been encountering them more frequently lately. They appeared to be human, and would appear as human to anyone else, but part of her curse was, she could sense the soul. And these souls were….very very different.

Though it was impossible to describe these souls in mere words, the best she'd ever been able to express it to herself was that they were ever-bubbling wellsprings of sadism. They wanted to hurt people. They wanted to hurt people in the worst possible way. And they _enjoyed_ it.

Back before she had become what she now was, she had occasionally read, with horror, the tales of serial killers, many of whom tortured their victims in unspeakable ways, often using them sexually, brutally, actually _trying_ to cause as much pain and suffering as they possibly could before killing the victim. She'd shaken her head when she read those; how could anyone get so messed up?

Now she knew. Her curse had its positive side. She could tell that these beings, while they walked around, chatting amiably with their neighbors, sometimes holding down jobs—appearing human, in other words—were in fact anything but.

Ranging with her head, from side to side, triangulating on the source of the signal, she determined that it was coming from less than a block away.

Keeping to the shadows, she felt her way towards the source of the signal. Her eyesight was much better now than…before…so navigating in the alleyways was as easy as walking along a beach to her. But she had to find the alleyway entrances that were closest to her quarry….it wouldn't do to be seen.

There; a man was walking along the sidewalk, towards his parked car, carrying his valise, fumbling for his key fob. He fished it out and unlocked his car door. Another moment and he'd be gone. She had to take a chance.

She stepped out of the shadows, clutching her shawl around her in what would appear to be a pitiful manner. "Please, sir," she began, "I'm so hungry. Could you give me some money?"

He eyed her, taking in the unkempt aspect, the raggedy clothes and hair. Overall, she really wasn't bad looking….and just the right age. "Tell you what, miss. There's an eatery up the road. Hop in and I'll buy you dinner there."

"Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you!" She quickly dove into the passenger side, even as he tried to hide a smirk. So naïve. Yes, nobody would miss this one.

The next day, the Jump City police would find his car, parked by the side of the road in one of the less-well traveled areas of town. His briefcase, including all his papers, would be found in it, as would his torn and bloodsoaked clothing. But the blood would be the only thing of him they'd ever find. Nor would there be any evidence of anyone else in the car with him, except, of course, for the shredded clothing, the marks on which resembled no animal on Earth. There would be no indication that, during the night, the predator had become the prey.

…..

High over the world of mortals, the great crystal sphere that was the _Starheart_ orbited Earth silently. It master/occupant was mightily troubled.

Things were going exactly as planned. Exactly as the _Adversary_ had planned, that is. Typhon was aware of the imminent demise of the universe, and the very real and present danger to that universe.

He had to safeguard Missy. In spite of her powers, or perhaps because of them, she could not stay here. What was coming could easily destroy her.

He was aware of her desire to stay, to remain with her new friends, the Teen Titans. Even though they seemed to be allied with his Enemy, he didn't have any problems with her being with them. The problem arose when it became dangerous for her to remain here in this universe at all.

He, himself, was not as vulnerable to what was coming, having dealt with it before. But Missy would be easy prey, and he couldn't have that.

But the only way to get her to safety was to leave himself, and the time was not yet right for that. He knew precisely what his Enemy would be trying to accomplish, and he had to be here to thwart it.

But in order for him to do that, Earth had to survive a bit longer. And that might easily mean taking a more aggressive stance.

…

Raven's room: her usual meditation techniques weren't helping a whole lot.

She'd tried and tried, but that enlightened state had eluded her each time. Probably due to the stress she was under.

She had some announcements to make to the Titans, but was deliberately delaying doing so until after Jasson and Deena left. While she would have appreciated their support, what she had to say was liable to be divisive. No, make that _certain to be_ divisive.

She touched her communicator. "Omega? Have you found anything?" The Osiran had been trying ceaselessly to re-establish contact with the _Deson._

"No, Raven, I have not. And I dare not launch any probes into that area, based on Gizmo's concerns. But my passive scans have not revealed anything at all."

"Very well, then." She got up from her lotus position, and went down to his lab, feeling the need to talk to him in a more personal context. "Omega? What of Gizmo's fears? What could Beulah Bleak have been summoning? Can you tell me anything at all? Even a guess?"

For a long moment, he was silent, and she was sure he was going to tell her he had nothing to go on. But then, "Based on what Gizmo supplied, added to all the other factors, it may well be we are facing an…invasion, of a sorts, by creatures from a place where what are, to us, the normal laws of reality do not apply." He paused, hands hovering over his control panel. "If, indeed, a form of life arose in a true-vacuum universe—I don't see how it's possible, but never mind—it could easily seek out and devour quanta, the discrete packets of matter/energy that make up all we know. Call it a 'quantivore,' for lack of a better term. But then there appears to be something else out there, something that devours the mind, the psyche. Psychovores? That would account for the condition of the Gordanians." He gestured upward towards the general direction of outer space. "But it may be nothing at all like that. There…there's really no telling what could be out there."

"'_In the forests of the night,'"_ quoted Raven, closing her eyes and leaning back against an inactive console.

"As you say. Except I highly doubt any 'immortal hand or eye' had anything to do with framing their 'fearful symmetry.'"

She paused, a small smile on her lips. She wondered when he'd picked up on that bit of Earth literature. Kitten, maybe? She knew Kitten was fond of poetry, and William Blake was a favorite of hers. "Omega. I'm curious. Did—do the Osirans believe in anything like God, or gods?"

"No. The closest such belief we had would be the Lords, of course, but even they were—are—known to be basically mortal entities, such as you or I. We never developed the concept of life after death." He shrugged. "This life was worrisome enough, by itself. Why do you ask?"

"Tell you later. But for now: is there any indication that Tameran could be in danger?"

"None I can tell. These incidents have happened in an altogether different part of space. That does not, I must stress, mean that Tameran is safe." Neither of them said the obvious.

Tameran was a populated world, and world full of people much like Earth, even if the people there were somewhat different, and their ways not Earth ways.

But it was only one populated world out of many thousands. What made it of importance to the Titans was simply that Starfire and Robin were currently vacationing there. The Titans had people there, friends. That made it more personal than it would be otherwise. "We don't have any subquantum teleport gates there, do we?"

"No, Raven, we do not. I can send a nanobot package to construct one, however."

"Do so. I'll contact Robin and Starfire and let them know that we could be facing an emergency back here." She tilted her head upwards towards the ceiling, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I'll have to word it carefully. Neither of them would return if they thought _Tameran_ was in danger, so I may have to put a certain spin on what I say, use the proper wording…okay, I may have to lie my eyebrows completely off, in order to get them to 'port back here, should it look like things could get bad there. They can both hate me if they want to, but I _will_ do whatever's necessary to save their lives."

Omega fiddled with his consoles, readying the nano packages. "That is a burden you will not have to bear alone, as I, too, will do whatever it takes to get them back here safely." He turned to her, even as he launched the probes. "That is, if, indeed, 'back here' is safe. It could easily be that where they are may prove to be safer."

She looked at him, a bemused expression on her face. "I didn't think Osirans could lie."

"Since we are accustomed to using Link for communication, and one cannot lie in Link, it is not something we do. However," and here he paused, a slightly one-sided smile on his face, "we _are_ fast learners."

….

Upstairs: Athena was just disengaging from her hug with Blackfire, already settling it in her mind that this was just one of those crazy situations the Tameranean always seemed to get her into, when she stiffened.

Still in her embrace, Blackfire noticed. "What?" She looked up at Athena's face.

"There…there is something at the door." She let go of Blackfire and moved towards the door to their small room.

"Wait. Something at the door? What do you-*" But Athena had already opened the door, reached down, and picked up the box that was on the floor in front of it. She brought it back to Blackfire, and the two looked at it soberly.

In appearance, it was an ordinary USPS box, markings in order, addressed to "Titans' Tower, Room 2111b." As in previous times when such a box had been left, there was no return address. "Athena? Do you think…?"

Athena was shaking her head. "I have already scanned it. There are no booby traps." She tore open the box to reveal yet another golden rose, along with a note reading: _Beware. They are coming._ _Your secret admirer. _

Below it was the curious sign Raven had told them was the symbol for Asmodeus.

_To be continued…_


	9. Chapter 9: Secrets

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: Secrets

…

_If you'd like to see what Gwen Markov looks like, head on over to Deviantart and check out Nancy171112's very excellent portrait of "Beast Girl." That's her! _

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Please read and review!_

…_._

"You wished to see me, Raven?" Omega stood at her door. As with all of them, he did not enter unless invited.

"Yes, yes, I did, Omega. Please. Step inside."

Once inside, she turned and sat on her couch. Raven's room didn't have a chair, unless you counted the dining-room type chair at her desk. She'd not taken the liberty of her newfound position to move into Robin's "office" for two reasons, one a good bit more important to her than the other: one, it was basically adjacent to his old room, so it would be clumsy to take one without taking the other, and two, a part of her privately hoped that Robin would return and reclaim his position of leadership. She doubted it was going to happen, but she could dream. "From what I've been able to discern, you seem like you might be the person to come to with this sort of thing. I'd like to bounce some ideas off of you, and see what your reaction is."

A brief pause. Then, "Of course, Raven. Ask what you will."

She rubbed her eyes. Raven hadn't been sleeping very well, ever since the Entity had confided in her what he wanted her to do. _Well, here goes nothing._ "I suppose it doesn't need to be said that I require discretion from you. You must not mention any of this to anyone. Anyone. That means Kitten, Athena, anyone. Understand?"

"Of course." This sounded big. "May I sit?"

"Erm? Oh, yes, of course." He folded himself down into a heel-sitting posture there in the middle of the floor. And waited.

She gathered her thoughts. "I've been in communication with the Entity. He tells me…this universe is going the same way as yours did, and for much the same reason: it's apparently being 'unmade,' I suppose the correct term would be. Why and how is a complicated topic. But these beasts—organisms, whatever you want to call them, that may be zeroing in on us are not the only threat, or even the major threat—merely the most immediate." She drew a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy. Or painless. "So the Entity has…offered us sanctuary. In Himself."

Omega nodded, seemingly unsurprised. "I deduced that would eventually come to pass, though the exact nature of it was unknown. But this comes as no surprise to me."

"Have you mentioned your…suspicions to anyone else?"

"No. But I must tell you: It will not be easy to keep such a secret, especially from people such as Blackfire. She seems to have a knack for reading people. And you are a 'people.' I will have to take certain precautions to keep such data as you have entrusted to me from Athena, which isn't easy, in Link."

"I would appreciate it if you would do so. Mind you, this won't be a secret forever; I'm not intending it that way. But I wanted to get your…reaction. After all, what he is essentially offering—I suppose that's as good a word as any—is to be assimilated into his Oneness. I imagine most people might find that a bit…extreme."

Omega was silent for a moment. Then, "But I note that he evidently offered the Lowlies on Apokolips a somewhat different option. For them, he prepared an entire world, transporting it to another universe altogether. Why is that not an option here?"

She shook her head. "I've tried to get him to say, but so far, about the best I can get out of him is, 'It isn't a good fit.' For some reason, that solution won't work for us. Won't…or perhaps more accurately put, _isn't being offered._ For whatever reason."

"I see." He looked off from his position there on the floor of her room, thinking. "So what, precisely, are you proposing?"

"I merely wanted to get your reaction to this news-*"

He interrupted her. "I understand that. I know what the Entity is proposing. But what are _you_ proposing?"

"Well. I suppose I'll bring it before the group…" She bit her lip. What, really, was she proposing?

"But this is not just for the group. This offer, if I understand correctly, is for humanity as a whole. Is it not?"

"Yes…"

"So…are you proposing that you—that _we_—make this decision for mankind? Or is that even the general idea? Is this offer of the Entity's only for those who agree?"

Sigh. "Only in part. We—he wants us to basically _promote_ the idea of mass assimilation to humanity."

"You realize that most people won't go for it."

"Not without some preparation. And certainly not without realizing what the alternative could be. We're to be the vanguard of a new movement, a new trend in human thought. A realization that, one way or another, our lives as individuals, at least as we've known the term so far, may be coming to an end."

Omega was as still as a statue, looking up at her from the floor. Then, "In other words," he said, drawing the words out, as though testing them, to see how they tasted, "He wants us to be his _apostles_."

She nodded. "Basically. That's why…that's why I wanted to talk to you first. You told me the Osirans had no gods, no religious beliefs. Humans…have many, and there are many who, while they don't consider themselves particularly religious, could still easily find this, this proposal…well. Perhaps 'sacrilegious' isn't the right word, but they'd easily find death to be the preferable option."

"And yet," he continued, "If I understand correctly, this is not that uncommon a concept in many religions, is it not?"

Again a nod from her. "Yes. Although most people consider it something far, far away—or at least as far away as death, which many humans don't think will happen to _them,_ or just plain don't like to think about—the notion of transcending the mortal realm in some final fashion is accepted. But of course, the details differ subtly. Most people have their own ideas about what such an afterlife would be like; now, they'd be confronted with the choice. Choose one, or the other. Be assimilated, or die." Again she sighed. "I feel fairly certain many would prefer to die. Better the devil you know, as the saying goes." Suddenly, her eyes widened: even as she said that, Trigon's words came back to her: "_**But I think you are unaware of just how much their war can cost you, what the effects of it can be upon you, and yours…**_

…_**You yet retain too much mortality to fully comprehend the scope of their actions. But this much I say, that you can comprehend: to you and your friends, I extend the offer of sanctuary, here in my domain…**_

…_**You believe there is no fate worse than confinement within my domain. But there is, daughter. There is."**_ Could _this_ have been what Trigon meant? If they moved into Hell, they'd at least be together, as a group, as friends. But if not…

They might not remain a group, teammates, or even friends. That thought was….scary. Raven shivered. It all depended so much on decisions she made, decisions she wasn't sure she could make. Or…should make.

It might well be better to be with one's friends in Hell than be in Paradise, alone.

_Damn_ Robin for leaving her with this! But of course, it would have come down to her anyway, sooner or later.

…

Across hypertime: Gwen and Terry's chartered jet arrived at the Markovian capitol city's airport. A taxi was waiting for them, a perfectly ordinary taxi, or so it seemed. That fit well with their own reasoning: making too much ado about the couple could attract unwanted attention.

And, once inside the taxi, they noticed that it was hardly ordinary. It had been specially reinforced, both the chassis and the window, which were of a thick, unbreakable plastic. And, from the way the car rolled, Terry had a hunch the tires were of the non-deflatable type reserved for VIPs.

Which, he guessed, they both were now. No sooner had that notion crossed his mind than he happened to see the "Special Forces" ring on the driver's left hand.

So. No ordinary taxi, and no ordinary taxi driver. "I don't suppose you can tell us anything about matters as they stand, can you?" he asked the man.

"On the contrary, sir. I can tell you anything you wish to know. Provided all you wish to know is, 'I don't know.' I'm basically to function as your bodyguard, sir, and so was not entrusted with upper level secrets. For all our protection."

They drove on in silence after that.

Presently, Gwen gasped, pointing out the window. "Terry!"

"I see it, Gwen." From his voice, he was decidedly unimpressed. "That's Castle Markovia."

Castle Markovia rose from a small hill. It was surrounded by a stone wall, with rounded towers at each corner, complete with crenellated battlements along the top wall and the towers. The portcullis was raised, and there was an actual bridge over a for-real _moat_ separating the castle grounds from the rest of the estate. "Terry. You grew up in THAT?"

"Only until I was twelve. Don't look so impressed, Gwen. I know it looks like something out of Walt Disney World, but it was restored in the late fifties, early sixties to look like that. Father," he sat back with an expression of distaste on his face, "was fond of fairy tales."

They were ushered into the main courtroom hallway, which seemed like it stretched a country mile to Gwen. Red and gold were the predominant themes, and overhead was an enormous crystal chandelier, which gave some light to the room, the rest (and most) of it being supplied by the towering windows that lined each opposing wall, at least during the daytime. The red and gold carpet led the way straight to the throne, which, rather than being an uncomfortable looking golden (or gold appearing) contraption, was actually a rather nice looking high-backed padded chair. Well, she thought, that made sense. After all, the king would have to spend some time here. Most of the thrones ones sees on television or in movies would be, in actuality, about as comfortable to sit in for extended periods of time as a pile of bricks.

Chancellor Butusov was a short, balding, somewhat red-faced man who somehow reminded Gwen of the Shopping Mall Santa Clauses that mothers always took their kids to see. Unlike them, however, his only facial hair was what could only be described as a very proper European moustache; his chin and face were cleanly shaven. He met them at the base of the throne. "Your Highness, I am glad to see you. I trust your trip was pleasant?"

"As pleasant as it could be, under the circumstances, old friend." Terry and Butusov clasped hands; they went back a ways. Butusov had been with the royal family in one capacity or another since before Terry's birth. "Is this the time or the place to…?" He raised a questioning eyebrow.

Butusov glanced around, nervously, but, Terry noticed, with a certain amount of practiced ease. "No, no, it is not. There will be time for that, later. For now, it is imperative I take you to see your father. Please…"

"Wait. Before we go…Rory, this is my wife, Gwen." And he gestured to Gwen, standing silently next to him.

Chancellor Butusov turned to her and gave a short bow. "Ah, yes. Please forgive my manners. It is an honor to meet you at long last, princess. Your husband has, of course, sent us pictures, but they do not do you justice."

"Whoa, wait. 'Princess'?" Gwen blushed, her green cheeks showing spots of tomato-red. "I'm no princess. Please, just call me Gwen."

Chancellor Butusov moved a little closer, and spoke in a hushed, intense tone. "Please, milady, you _must_ permit me to address you as 'princess.' This matter is more important than you know. I will explain all as soon as I can, but suffice it for now to say it is a matter of vital political importance here. You are the Princess Gwendolyn Markov. Please accept that…for now."

Gwen and Terry looked at each other, incomprehension in both their eyes. Terry shrugged slightly; _he_ didn't know, either. _"Play along,"_ he mouthed.

"Uh, v-very well. I, I suppose I can do that," she said to the Chancellor. Then to Terry: "But I get the distinct impression there's things going on, things we don't know that we need to know."

"That is quite correct, Your Highness," said Butusov, now addressing Gwen, in a normal tone of voice. "Now. I know the two of you are tired from your trip, but it is important that I take you to see your father, Your Highness." His face seemed to droop somewhat. "His condition is…quite grave. More so, I fear, than I was able to express in my previous communiqué's."

He ushered them to the right of the throne, down through a passageway to a small door. Opening it, revealed a short staircase, leading down. At the bottom of the staircase, he fished around for a set of keys, and opened the only door that had presented itself. They went through it (and Gwen and Terry both took note of the security cameras installed along the way) down to a small room more resembling a hospital room than anything else.

Upon the white hospital bed, surrounded by two guards, medical attendants and at least two doctors, lay a tall man with hair that looked like it had once been blond, but was now as white as snow. He looked up at their approach, and nodded to one of the guards. The guard spoke to the others, and they all left the room.

The king of Markovia sat up painfully in his hospital bed. "Son. You came. I'm glad to see you."

Terry bit back his first retort: _You weren't eight years ago._ There was no point in hashing over such things, at least not yet. "Father." He gave a short bow of respect.

The king's gaze rested momentarily on Gwen. "And this is your wife?" He paused, a slight smile on his face, evidently remembering something pleasant. "My son has good taste."

"Father," Terry spoke a bit sharply. "I am certain you didn't call us here for an exchange of pleasantries. In point of fact, the last time I saw you, you told me-*"

"—that you were never to return to this land. I suppose," and here he coughed, a hacking cough that made him reach for some tissues by the bed, "I suppose that only goes to prove that there is no fool like an old fool."

"Father. Kindly do not attempt to garner sympathy from me by insulting yourself. You called; I am here. Regardless of any…harsh feelings between us, the simple truth is, we are family. And now, especially…" He let the matter hang there, in between them.

"Yes, now especially. Your sister," the old man's voice dropped, and Gwen saw a tear make its way down his cheek. "She is…gone. And…as you've probably surmised, her passing was anything but natural. My own specialists conducted the autopsy. The poison was unlike anything they had ever seen, and several of them are of the opinion that it did not originate upon this planet. At least…." And here another tear joined the first, "At least she did not suffer.

"But now…now it falls to you to accept the mantle of leadership. Soon, I will be interred in the family mausoleum out back, and Markovia….the land of your birth will need a new king. That king," and here another spasm of coughing wracked his frame, "that king will be you. And…there are some things you'll need to know."

"Father, I-*"

But the Markovian king held up his hand. "Please. Soon I will lie back down to rest again. I might never arise. So please let me say what I need to say.

"I know I exiled you from this land unjustly. I accept full blame for that. Your mother…your mother could not be found, or I would have sent the two of you together. You must find her, if she lives.

"In the royal library, in the back, there is a reading room. On the far wall of the room is a portrait of a woman. That woman is your mother. That is what she looked like so many years ago when…but behind this portrait is a safe. A perfectly ordinary combination safe, the combination of which Chancellor Butusov has.

"But know you this: behind this safe is yet another safe, secreted away in such a manner that one cannot even detect it from the outside. The only way you can find it is, if you already know it is there.

"You are the only person who can open that safe. There is a key: you alone have it. Inside you will find some documents, some papers, that may help you locate your mother.

"As to why it is so important that you locate her, she and she alone, by now, and if she yet lives, possesses information on the process by which you and your dear sister acquired your powers. It is vital that you recover that information. It is vital for many reasons, but most vital because there are others seeking to duplicate the experiment that produced you and Brianna.

"If they succeed—or even if they fail—their efforts could easily result in a chain reaction that would destroy this very planet upon which we live."

_To be continued…_


	10. Chapter 10: A New King

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3, Chapter 10: A New King

…

_I don't own the Teen Titans, but you really should take a look at Nancy171112's Deviantart portrait of "Beast Girl." That's Gwen Markov—excuse me, Her Highness, the Princess Gwendolyn Markov._

…_._

To say that Gwen and Terry were shocked was an understatement. Destroy the planet? True, Slade had told Terry, once, long ago, that without a certain compound, he, Terry, could/would end up destroying the Earth, but that hadn't happened, and they'd put it down to another one of Slade's lies. Sometimes, late at night, Gwen wondered how the man had kept track.

But now here was somebody else, also evidently familiar with Terry's geo powers, saying the same thing. Could there be some truth to it?

"But now…" The Markovian king settled back down on his hospital bed. "Now, I must rest. Perhaps, if fortune smiles upon me a bit longer, I'll be able to speak with you a bit more on this matter. If not…if not, I have left you with all the information I have regarding your mother." He lay back and closed his eyes.

Through some sort of signal—or perhaps they'd been watching all along—the attendants magically reappeared, with the nurse escorting Gwen and Terry out to the waiting Chancellor Butusov. "Come, Your Highness. I've prepared accommodations for you."

He led them to a massive series of interconnected rooms, bedroom, main room, library, a huge bath with a full Jacuzzi. "They sure didn't skimp on anything, did they?" mused Gwen.

"This is actually pretty standard. You oughtta see my father's personal living quarters. They're bigger than the throne room."

She came over and sat down on the couch facing the faux fireplace, motioning for him to do so. "Terry, what do you suppose he meant by all that?"

Terry shrugged. "Probably exactly what he said: somebody's trying to reproduce the process whereby Bree and I got our powers. It makes sense, I mean, but I was always told it had something to do the royal genotype." Another shrug. "But it makes sense that somebody could duplicate the process." Frown. "But my mother…Gwen, if she's still alive…" His look turned pensive. "I had always, I guess, assumed she was dead. I mean, I never knew her, have no memories of her at all. The only childhood memories of any family I have are father and Bree. Oh, and Rory, but…the notion that she might be alive…"

She hooked an arm through his. "Well, if she is, we'll just find her. That's all." She yawned, glanced at her watch. "It's getting late. Maybe we should turn in? There'll be time to go over this tomorrow morning."

But at 2:31 AM, Chancellor Butusov, a robe hastily thrown over his own pajamas, signaled for entrance. "I'm sorry, lad. Your father…took a sudden turn for the worse. There was no time, even to come and get you." He straightened up and drew a deep breath, looking Terry in the eyes. "Your Majesty. Markovia has a new king."

….

_Across hypertime_: Omega paced in his room. It was not an Osiran custom, but he was trying it out, to see if it helped his concentration. It didn't.

He understood Raven's confusion. What she was proposing was big, bigger than anything the Titans had ever dealt with. It could easily put them on opposite ends of the sword, not only with other heroes, but also with members of their own team.

Their own family.

He had studied Earth history. It wouldn't be the first time ideological and theological differences had split the closest of kin. There were people in this nation known as _America_ who simply couldn't stand the notion that someone might disagree with them on some matter. Indeed, the list was virtually endless, made all the more complicated by personalities, personal agendas and issues. Sometimes, he truly believed humans would go to war over an overdue library book.

_But were we any better?_ He asked himself. _Fighting, eternally fighting, over ever-dwindling resources? We could have been so much better! We could have used our science to __create__ new resources, or seek them out…no, we were no better._

_Instead we became what we are: legends. Legends of a vanished race, forever squabbling amongst ourselves. _The he stopped, a look of sudden realization on his face.

If the information they had was accurate, perhaps the Osirans were not quite so vanished as he had thought they were. And while that would no doubt present more threat than opportunity, there was also no doubt that opportunity could exist there.

…..

"Okay," yawned Raven, "I'm up, and about as awake as I can be at this hour. What did you wish to say?" Omega had called her, requesting a late-night conference, just the two of them.

Raven tightened her robe around her, and sat upon her bed. The Osiran, in his usual mode, sat in his kneeling position on the floor. Short as she was, he nonetheless had to look up to her. "I asked for this meeting to discuss some things that came up today, and…to mention some things.

"I understand you have mixed feelings about revealing to the group as a whole any such agenda as you've mentioned. The Titans were formed to combat crime, and by doing so, to make the world a better place. But this…this is very different."

Another yawn. "Yes, it is. Only, I don't see any way around it."

He looked at her intently. "Raven. I've a question. I know that you have a personal relationship with the Entity, sufficient that he seems to regard you as his…well, his confidante, so to speak. Is this not so?"

"Yes…"

"What do you suppose he might do if you—you, personally, I mean—rejected his offer?"

"Oh, gods. Yes, I see what you're asking. In terms of sheer power, there is nothing to prevent him from just…well, basically from having his way with the entire human race, maybe even the entire universe. He did say he incorporates universes into himself, into his Unity, making them One with Himself. But what you're asking is, what sort of _person_ is he? And, and I'm honestly not sure.

"So far, he's played fair with us—with me, at least…even to the point of being beneficial to me, even when I didn't recognize it as such. But…"

"Raven. This is important. Very important." Omega seemed to sit forward slightly, and became even more intense. "Do you suppose the Entity could be _courting_ you?"

Silence. Then, "You mean, trying to seduce me. Figuratively speaking, of course…"

"Or not. Am I mistaken, or does one of your major Earth religions not have, as part of its origin, a virgin who is informed that she will bear the son of the only deity that religion recognizes as existing? And…I can find no scripture where her consent was actually requested. She was simply informed of the matter. Of course, to be so chosen was a singular honor, there is no doubt about that, and there are similar stories from antiquity, but…I suppose I _am_ asking you what sort of person this Entity is. In your opinion."

Raven felt a cold knot form in her stomach. Now she applied her keen intellect to the question Omega was asking. "He's…well. Headstrong. Proud, a bit haughty. A bit of a smart-aleck. He doesn't regard humanity as insects, but he does believe we don't know what's good for us." A rueful smile. "Of course, in that regards, he may have a point. But you're asking me, unless I'm totally misreading this whole matter, if he'd 'go postal' on the entire world if we rejected him and his offer."

Omega continued. "I am no expert on the subject, but I seem to recall, from reading one of the major holy books in use in this nation, that, at least in the first part of it, their God was prone to permitting or even causing terrible things to happen to His people when they strayed from his precepts. I know it's not as simple as all that, but…"

"I see what you're saying. What would happen if we displeased him? And, Omega, I…I honestly have no idea."

There was a pause. Then he spoke up again, from the floor. "The information we gathered from Dr. Devil's extra dimensional fortress indicates that Osirans are now present in the vibrational universe once dominated by Apokolips. Perhaps…perhaps we could see if relations could be established with them. They may prove helpful, since, if this is true, they did survive the destruction of our old universe, anyway."

Raven sucked in her breath. "I, I don't know, Omega. From what you've told me, Osira wasn't a very nice place to live. Do we need to complicate matters like that? Might we not be attracting the attention of one of the most dangerous of all interstellar races? I mean, I trust you, and Athena, but the Lords…"

"I understand, Raven, and agree. Precautions would need to be taken. But if my own experience"—and here, she noticed a slight grimace on his part; his own experience had very nearly been lethal, for him—"if my own experience is any guide, the Lords will be busy conquering the universe they have found themselves in. When they are done there, they might turn their attention to this one…but even so, Earth is only one of many inhabited worlds. There would be no particular reason for them to single Earth out. It's not like we're the center of a major star power."

"But what could they possibly do for us that you, Athena, and the Kindred cannot do?"

"Much." His tone was grim. "You do not realize it, Raven, but we—Athena, the Kindred, and myself—are only able to make use of certain principles, utilizing 'home grown' technology, as it were. Even what you have seen, all that you have seen, is in fact a poor substitute for what a full-fledged Osiran industrial society could do. Everything we've managed to accomplish, technologically, would be equivalent to an abacus. An abacus versus a probability-based quantum supercomputer."

Now _Raven_ grimaced. "It's that bad?"

"War appears to be fertile ground for technological breakthroughs. And if we are anything at all, we are experts on war."

"You think your people might actually be able to, to avert this…catastrophe? The end of the universe?"

"Avert?" He shrugged. "Unknown. Escape from? Well, if they're still around, they evidently did precisely that. And besides. There is the simple fact that they are there. It might not be a bad idea to develop some sort of peaceful relations with them. If that's possible, I mean."

"Do you think it is?"

"I know for a fact it's impossible if we don't try. My people are conquerors by nature; they certainly will not extend the proverbial olive branch to _us._"

"Very well." Raven yawned again. It was late, and she was exhausted. "See what you can do. Come up with some way of contacting them that wouldn't endanger the Earth, and I'll go over it with you. If we can be satisfied as to Earth's safety…then I see no harm in at least opening contact with them."

"As you wish, Raven." He rose and turned for the door.

…..

"I never thought I'd see the day," remarked Athena, leaning against the doorjamb in the doorway to Omega's below-ground laboratory, her clipped British accent wafting through the air, "when you'd block me in Link, and force me to communicate with you by means of sonic vibrations in the atmosphere." He said nothing. "Or will you not even communicate with me that way?"

"Athena," he sighed, "There is, as the human expression goes, a 'lot on my plate,' and, yes, some of it I have been asked to keep secret. Even from you. And you know how nearly impossible that is in Link."

She paused, looking at him first one way, then the other. "I never thought we would have secrets from each other."

"I have no _personal_ secrets from you. You know that. But we both know what it is like to be under orders, to be required to undertake certain covert missions. This is, really, no different. Hopefully, in the near future, I'll be able to explain everything to you. Perhaps then you'll see."

She moved closer, narrowing her eyes at him. "You're going to try to find them, aren't you?"

"?"

"The Lords. You're going to try to find the Lords. We know they're in Apokolips's old universe, and you're going there. For some unknown reason. But I can only assume that it must be due to some unimaginable danger here, that you would even consider setting foot on Lord-held territory."

Sigh. "You are an excellent logician. And I have known interrogators without such an insight of another's thought processes."

"I made," she said softly, head bowed, "an excellent interrogator. In another life." She saw his shocked look. They both knew what it meant for a warrior to "interrogate" someone. "You do not need to look that way. You are familiar with the Lord Natal's…perversions. We both know I did not escape them, and in more ways than one. As you say, we both know what it is like to be under orders." In the brief pause that followed, "So. When do we leave?"

"What? No. You do not need to go."

Again, she crossed her arms and, but now looked him in the eye. "Yes, I do. And you know why. If I do not face this now, there will be no facing it, ever." She paused for a full tenth of a second. "Do you want that for me?"

He could feel himself melt, inside. "No, I…do not." Then, "Very well. I will speak to Raven."

…..

_Across hypertime:_ the Royal study. Chancellor Butusov led them to the small—comparatively speaking—room behind the throne room. He gestured; on the far wall was a portrait, and both Gwen and Terry gasped. "The Lady Genevieve," he said, with evident sadness.

Not only was the woman depicted almost angelically lovely, with round spectacles riding atop her straight black hair, but, in quite a departure from the standard "royal portrait" they'd both been expecting, she was attired in…a spotless white knee-length lab coat.

Terry looked at his wife. "Some things are starting to make sense."

_To be continued..._


	11. Chapter 11: Promises

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: Promises 

"_What?_" Kitten couldn't believe her ears. "You're going to this _New Osira_…and _without me?_"

"I _can't_ take you, Kitten. It's not because I don't want to-*"

"You think I can't handle it."

"I _know_ you can't handle it. Kitten, New Osira orbits the white supergiant star that used to be Apokolips' homestar. At a little more than one astronomical unit, no farther away from it than the Earth is from the sun. But this is a white _supergiant_. The sunlight of New Osira would fry you crisp in an instant. No, you _couldn't_ handle that."

Still she huffed. "I bet the Orb could…do something. Protect me, somehow."

"Perhaps in this universe. But from a universe away? Kitten, it simply wouldn't be wise to risk it. And yes, there is another reason I do not wish you to go."

"The Lords."

"The Lords. From Grodd's experience, we know their power is not limited to our kind alone. And while you possess one of the finest minds on Earth," and here, he crossed over to her, curling a finger under her chin, and lifting her angry face up to his, "even though some may accuse me of a certain bias with regards to that—the simple truth is, you would be vulnerable to the Lords' power. And please believe me when I say it is not something you want to experience first hand. It would be no trouble whatsoever for a Lord, even a lesser one, to turn your mind inside out, and you would never notice. So please. Besides, I need you here anyway, to run the extraction program we've designed, in case things should take a turn for the worse."

"I thought the Orb was handling that."

"The Orb needs a connection with us. I would like that connection to be you; it would be all the stronger for our personal involvement. So by staying here, you would be assisting the two of us in a very real way. Will you not do this? For me?"

She sagged slightly, in his arms. "Ok_ay._ Ya put it that way. But I can't say I'm happy about this whole business of you going to the Lords personally. I mean, couldn't you, like, just _call_ 'em or something? Why do you have to go in person?"

"Remote communication such as you mean would be just as dangerous—the Lords' power can work through communication signals as well as face-to-face. And this mission is to see if it's possible to establish peaceful—or at least, non-warlike—relations with them. That is best done on a personal basis, and would have to be done sooner or later anyway."

"So…do you think you'll be able to resist the Lords' power, this time?"

He turned back to his workbench. "I only know I did last time. And I believe, with all she has gone through, and the modifications the Kindred placed in her brain, that Athena will be able to, as well." _At least, I hope so._ "And I'll need you to continue to attempt to locate the _Deson._ I fear the worst, but still, I have hope. Hope that they may've somehow survived."

"Yeah." Kitten shivered slightly, her tail twitching nervously. "God, that'd be…horrible. To be _eaten_ like that…"

"We don't know, for a fact, if that's what happened to them." He frowned, a look of determination coming over his porcelain-white features. "But I will not give up on them. They were friends of ours. We must not lose hope." _Even such a slender hope as we have._ "Now. I must go meet with Alpha. They are supplying us with a vessel by which we may breach the continuum walls through to the target universe, hopefully, in such a manner as to render our entry undetectable, and our exit," _If we make one…_ "…untraceable." He hoped she didn't notice the slight hesitation.

She came up behind him, putting her arms around him from behind, sliding her hands over his body. "Do you have to go right away?"

"Perhaps not right this second, but we will be leaving for the Kindred's hive within the hour. And I must get with Athena and prepare our 'cover story,' as it were, for how we happened to be here. Why do you ask?"

"Because," she said, continuing to feel all over him, "there's no telling when you'll be back, is there? And…we've got some time. And in that time, I mean to have you." And she led him over to the reinforced bed, a mischievous look on her face. Her tail twitched once, twice, three times in anticipation. "Unless of course, you've got something better to do. In which case, Prepare to Die, lover."

Omega smiled a quirky smile of his own as he followed her to the bed. A good tactician knows that, when he faces overwhelmingly superior forces, he must adjust his battle plans accordingly.

…..

"…still don't like the idea of you heading back into Lord territory alone, 'Thena," Blackfire was saying. The Tameranean was clearly nervous; her hands wouldn't stay still. Tameraneans don't bite their fingernails like humans do, but when they get nervous, they start making certain hand gestures which they usually don't even notice. This was happening now: Blackfire's hands were fluttering, first one way, then the other, even as she strove to calm herself. "I mean, the last time you were there, one of those bastards fucking _raped_ you! And now you're going right back? How smart is that?"

Athena turned from where she was gathering the items she'd need. It was possible that New Osira would not be the world they both remembered; there could be cultural, social, and, almost certainly, technological advances that might hinder communication. For a conqueror people, this wasn't a problem: let the conquered learn to communicate with their new masters. But what she and Omega hoped to do was to represent Earth as a world with a more or less comparable level of technological development to Osira, enough to be treated as close to an equal as they could manage. That wouldn't be easy, she knew, and could easily backfire. "Blackfire, surely you see that I must do this for precisely that reason. Yes, I was…abused. By sheer good fortune, I escaped, and managed to come here, where I am beginning to come to terms with…with what happened to me." She turned towards her friend, still nervously dithering there in the middle of the room, "I cannot run from this, Blackfire. You see that, don't you? The Lords are out there, and they're not going away. And they may prove helpful even…."

"Helpful! That _sleighgar_ raped you, Athena! Multiple times! AND had you so thoroughly brainwashed that you didn't even notice! How would you feel if something like that happened to me?"

At her words, Athena suddenly felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water into her face. And, at the same time, it seemed as if a nuclear cascade reaction had suddenly ignited in her chest. Blackfire, raped as she herself had been raped? Not just bodily, but mentally, as well? Her whole head turned silver, not in a blush, but in rage.

She stood there for just a microsecond, until she was sure she had herself under control. Then she went over and gathered the dark-haired girl into her arms. "I would personally kill whoever was responsible. Slowly, painfully. But they would die. It would not matter if they were Lords or not. They would die."

Blackfire sighed, there in Athena's embrace, her arms around the Osiran girl. "That's kinda how I feel. I know you said this Lord Natal was, like, crazy or something, and not your typical Lord, but…you'd still be going back to the very kind of creatures who did this sort of thing to you before. I, I don't want that to happen to you. I don't even wanna _think_ about it. And yeah, I'd kill anyone who did that to you. I don't care if it was one of these oh-so-super-duper-mondo-powerful Lords; I'd find a way

"But…but, dammit all, I can kinda see where you're coming from. This is, like, your worst nightmare. If you don't face it now…"

"Exactly." The two of them still stood there, in the middle of the room, holding each other.

Blackfire sighed there, in her embrace. "Did I ever tell you about my worst nightmare?"

"No."

"One word: Psions. They were a race of cold-bloods, a reptilian race that seems to like to capture and experiment on people. Not draw-your-blood-and-see-what-it's-made-of type experiments, either. They're rumored to frequently attempt to 'cross-pollinate,' I guess you'd say, different species. See if they couldn't force-fertilize the females of one species with the males of another. Why? 'Cause they can. 'Cause they're aliens who don't care. The whole universe is just research material to them. They'd do these horrible things _just to see what would happen._ It's not like there would be some kinda _point_ to it all, not trying to better the species or anything. _Just out of mere curiosity._

"I used to have nightmares, when I was little, about being captured by the Psions. They'd always tie me up, naked, of course, and then drag in the ugliest, most disgusting looking monster you could imagine, an' let him have me. And no matter how much I cried and begged, no matter how much I screamed, _they never stopped._" Here she stopped, shoulders shaking, tears running down her face.

"Blackfire…"

Blackfire continued, wiping the tears from her face and sniffling, "I think, one of the reasons I always had it in for Kory was, she was just such an innocent. She never had nightmares like that. Never. She was little miss luv luv luv. I really think if a Psion had smashed in her door late one night, she would've taken one look at it, and gone over and hugged it. She never saw the dark heart behind the universe. Maybe I was jealous of that. I know I was envious of it.

"So when I got out, on my own, I went _looking_ for Psions. Not for killing, necessarily, but for information. They were my bogeymen, and I wanted to know more about them. Especially how to beat them.

"And, just as importantly, to show them that _I wasn't afraid of them_. I wasn't a kid anymore.

"So I can totally understand how you feel you gotta go face these Lords. Even if they're not as bad as Natal, they're still _Lords_, they're still your worst nightmare. One thing I learned: you can't hide from your own nightmares. They tend to find you.

"I just wish I could go with you."

For a long moment, the two young women just stood there, locked in an embrace, with Blackfire's head resting against Athena's shoulder, Athena's hand behind her head. Finally, Athena spoke up. "Learning….and growth…is, of course, an ongoing process. But I have learned something this day, this very hour, in fact, something I think quite valuable."

"Oh? What?" Blackfire's voice was muffled somewhat, pressed up against her friend as she was.

"It is this." And gently Athena tilted Blackfire's head up, and brought her own face down to hers….

….and kissed her. Not a platonic kiss, not a "friendship" peck, but a fully _sensuous_ kiss. Blackfire's eyes widened at the unexpected, but obvious _meaning_ behind the kiss…and then she closed her eyes and devoted herself to just enjoying it. Where had Athena learned to kiss like this? But who really cared? She was doin' such a _great job…_

They broke apart, practically gasping. "Uh, Athena?"

"Blackfire…when you told me what you just told me, I realized just how much you mean to me. I realized how much something that hurt you could hurt me, as if we were…one being. I realized how much I care." Athena looked down into her friend's eyes. "I don't know how you feel about such a thing, or about me, or, or anything else, really. I only know that I cannot bear to lose you or see you hurt.

"I believe I love you, Blackfire of Tameran. I don't know how you feel about me, but I would understand if you…did not feel the same." She found she couldn't look Blackfire in the eyes as she said that last.

"Feel the same? Are you _serious? _Okay. Check _this_ out." And now _Blackfire_ drew the Osiran woman into a passionate kiss of her own. "I've felt the same way for _months_ now! I, I just didn't wanna weird you out with it all…."

Athena smiled, a broad smile. "Well, if this is being 'weirded out,' there's certainly a lot to be said for it."

…

The vessel had been named _Searcher,_ and carefully designed to resemble a standard Osiran starcraft. Warriors themselves did not need such ships, being perfectly adapted to the conditions of space, but Omega felt it would be better this way. This way, the implication was they came from an established technological culture, and weren't just some stray warriors.

Almost as soon as they lifted off, Omega turned to Athena. {{So. How are things between you and Blackfire?}}

Athena smiled and blushed at the same time. {{You see how it is, in Link. I…did not realize how much she meant to me….until now.}}

He reached over and patted her on the knee. With Osirans, that gesture meant something completely different. {{Athena, I am happy for you. One thing I have noticed: love is not a guarantee on Earth, with humans. Not everybody finds somebody to love, and who loves them in return. That you have…is very gratifying to me. You deserve this.}}

She was silent for a moment, in Link. Then, {{Well, we're still in the process of…coming to terms with how we feel about each other, but…}}

{{Doesn't matter. All that is 'mere details,' as the human saying goes. What matters is, the intent—and the emotion—is there. As I said, I'm happy for you. For you both.}}

They maneuvered the craft towards the point where the Kindred were to open the boom tube into the vibrational universe they sought.

Athena turned her chair so that she was facing him. {{Omega? I need a favor.}}

{{You know you have but to ask.}}

{{This is a big one.}}

{{That doesn't matter. You know that.}}

Again she paused, gathering her thoughts. Then, {{We are heading into Lord territory. We will be within their sphere of influence.}}

{{Yes.}}

{{Omega…if it seems like I will be taken over by the Lords, if it seems like I am losing the battle…I want you to kill me.}}

{{WHAT!}}

{{You heard me. I will not be a slave to the Lords, ever again. If that seems likely…I want you to kill me.}}

{{Athena, I-*}}

{{No ifs, ands, or buts. I want you to promise me. Now promise me! Or would you really want me to go back to being a thrall in the Lords' domination?}}

{{You know I wouldn't want that.}}

{{Then promise. Promise me now. I'm serious. Promise me.}}

{{Athena….}}

{{Promise me!}} Her mental tone of voice allowed for no argument.

{{Very well. I promise you: if it seems like the Lords are about to take you over again, I….I will kill you.}}

A brief smile touched her face, and suddenly, she seized him by the back of the neck, drew him in to her, and kissed him. {{Then this seals the vow. And I promise the same: the Lords will not have you. Not as long as life and mind remains within me.}}

He drew back, the surprise in his face being replaced by determination. {{I furthermore vow one more thing, Athena: either we both come back, or neither of us comes back.}}

{{Good. We both have people to return to, a reason to live. And we will. We _both_ will.}} They both paused for a moment ….

{{Alright,}} she said, returning her seat to its forward-facing position, {{Let's double-check those coordinates. We should be approaching the jump point.}}

_To be continued…_


	12. Chapter 12: Hard Choices

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results, Chapter 12: Hard Choices

…

_I'm once again indebted to Nancy171112's Deviantart portrait of "Beast Girl." If anyone wants to see what Gwen Markov looks like, look it up. That's her!_

_The character of Alice is used with permission of Walkerjordan963. Thank you, Walkerjordan!_

_Oh, and yes: this chapter is a trifle wordy. The reader may get tired of endless dialogue, but every bit of it is necessary. I'm trying to clear as much of it out of the way as possible to make way for later chapters._

_So if you find yourself being a bit bored by these chapters…you may find yourself wishing later chapters were a bit more boring. I know I did._

…_._

Some Detailed Explanations:

Across hypertime: Gwen and Terry still stared at the portrait of Terry's mother. "I never knew…" breathed Terry.

"She sure was beautiful, Terry." Gwen turned to Butusov. "What can you tell us about her?"

Butusov cleared his throat. Evidently, the portrait affected him strongly, too. "The Lady Genevieve came to Markovia nearly twenty-five years ago. She was a researcher in a couple of fields, but most prominently in the fields of astronomy and biology. Those may seem like wholly unrelated areas of expertise, but…

"She was a proponent of the theory of panspermia. Are you familiar with it? No? Well, although I don't know that much about it myself, from what I gather, it basically states that life on Earth is the product of life from other worlds, or other places in outer space. The common conception is that of spores, drifting through space until they find a suitable world upon which to grow. She came to Markovia due to some interesting meteorite samples that had come from here. She wanted a first-hand look at the sites themselves.

"I don't know all about what she found out. But I do know the king—your father, lad—ordered a large, state of the art radio telescope built. Funds weren't a problem, in those days, and they equipped it with the best equipment and researchers they could find.

"And sometime during that time…Your Grace," here he addressed Terry, "how much do you know of your father's relationship with his wife?"

"Practically nothing. It…never seemed to come up, and I never even saw her. Why?"

"I say that only to say this: your father and mother…were unhappy with each other. Theirs was an arranged marriage, for political reasons only, and I fear there was no real love there. Your sister was the product of that union. But that was essentially the only relation they had. She even had a separate wing of the castle, from which I don't recall her ever leaving, until her death, not long after you were born.

"Your father and mother…found happiness together. Legally, they could not be wed under Markovian law, but…anyway. I suppose I needn't go on about that.

"Your mother remained here for at least a year after you were born. To be honest, I don't know what happened to her. I do know she was renowned in her field…and there was considerable controversy about one field in which I believe she was one of the pioneers."

"What field was that?"

Butusov hesitated momentarily. Then, "It didn't really have a name. She referred to it as Xenobiocosmology. She referred to it as a direct descendent of the theory of panspermia. Ways of which life-forms from out there," he nodded towards the ceiling, and then…looked significantly at Terry, "could come here."

…..

{{Boom tube collapsing,}} announced Athena. {{Initiating tracking sensors.}} None of this communication was actually in words, but in the immeasurably fast thought-concepts made possible by Link.

{{Passive defenses on full, aggressive defenses standing by,}} replied Omega. To all observers, the _Searcher_ was essentially well-shielded against any natural danger, but not proof against Osiran probes. That was as it should be.

There was a shudder, and a feeling of deceleration as they ship left the boom tube. Almost immediately, their sensors began flashing, warning of encroaching sensor beams…and something else.

{{Probability field detected. Initiating shielding.}} The viewscreens showed the reddish haze that seemed to stretch from one corner of the universe to the other.

{{Wait,}} he said, {{can you backtrack it? Give us a better fix on its point of origin?}}

{{Negative. It's coming from too many different points. I can pinpoint the closest, however…there.}} A line appeared on the three-D graph on the console. {{Apparently a major center of the newly-established Empire.}}

A light denoted an incoming signal. Omega and Athena looked at each other; this was it.

The signal was in several different mathematical codes, designed to be easily translatable to any reasonably sophisticated computer system. Naturally, whoever was in charge of this frontier had taken into consideration that there could be others here, and that their means of travel no doubt involved high-level computers, so that was what the signal was aimed at. Plus, there was an override code, designed to take control of the incoming craft's systems.

After all, control _is_ communication, of a sort.

Omega didn't bother with the artificial signal, but simply sat back and sent a signal of his own, via Link. {{I am Omega, of the planet Earth. I, and others, are emissaries of the world from which we come. Are you able to communicate in this fashion?}} It had been decided to let Omega do the "talking," as he had the most experience in dealing with—and resisting the control of—the Lords.

There was a brief pause. Then, {{State your identification.}} Meaning the massive number by which Osirans were known in the communication system known as Link.

{{I am unable to fully comply with that. The Empire from which I came was many cycles ago, and I believe it to be no more. Therefore my designation would mean nothing to you. I have adopted the name Omega, which serves the same purpose. With me is one other. We seek the rulers of the Osiran Empire.}} He let a brief pause go by, only a nanosecond, but in Link, more than enough to make his point. {{We were under the impression our people were no more.}}

Pause. {{You seek the Lords?}}

{{We seek the Lord Osirus. There is a matter we wish to discuss with him.}}

{{What matter is that?}}

{{It is a matter,}} and here, Omega allowed a hint of steel into his mental "voice," {{which we will discuss _with the Osirus._}} Another pause. {{We would appreciate an audience with him. It is a matter concerning our mutual survival.}}

This time the pause was lengthy, even by human standards. Then, finally, {{You will be escorted to a receiving area while your petition is made. You will follow the guides.}} Three glowing, apparently self-powered crystal spheres appeared in front of them, blinking and leading them into the heart of the Empire's realm.

Athena reached over and grasped Omega fingers in her own. She didn't use Link, but that, and the glance she gave him, was message enough. _No turning back._

…_._

Across hypertime: "So," began Gwen, "what about this…secret safe?"

"Secret safe, milady?" Butusov was clearly puzzled. "There is one behind the Lady Genevieve's portrait, but…"

"Open it, would you, Rory?" Terry nodded, moving forward. They'd need both of them to move the heave royal portrait.

"Ah, guys, here, I got this." Gwen morphed into a gorilla, picking up the heavy-framed picture with ease, and setting it carefully to one side.

Chancellor Butusov's eyes widened. "I…forgive me, your ladyship. I had, of course, known of your abilities, but…"

She'd morphed back to human. "It's okay, I know it takes a little getting used to." She grinned. "Tell you the truth, I'm still getting used to it, myself." Then she sobered. "But, really, Chancellor, we're alone here. Surely you can drop the titles and just call me Gwen."

Again, Butusov paused, obviously thinking. "I…you are right about some things, milady." He moved to the wall safe that had been uncovered when Gwen moved the painting. "We _are_ alone here." He dialed the combination into the safe, and it clicked open, revealing various file boxes, as well as a couple of boxes containing what looked like gold and silver jewelry. Towards the back was a stand upon which rested a heavy-looking golden crown. With obvious reverence, he retrieved this, and handed it to Terry. "This will be yours now, lad. The ceremony will be held in a week; I only wish it could be tonight. Right now."

"Old friend, you make it sound like a matter of life and death."

"It could easily be. Tell me, lad, what do you know of Markovian law?"

Terry frowned. "Nothing, really. I suppose that'll have to change, won't it?"

"Yes, and it will begin changing tonight. You see," here he turned so as to include Gwen, after nervously checking the door way to the study. The room beyond was bare…seemingly. He closed the door. "The reason, one reason, I have been so insistent upon referring to you, Lady Gwendolyn, by your title, is due to a peculiar quirk of our law. By law, the king cannot be considered legally married unless he weds upon Markovian soil. Now, I know," he said, holding up a hand to forestall their protests, "that that particular law is outmoded and has not been enforced for at least six hundred years. Nonetheless, like a great many outdated laws that are never enforced, it has remained on the books ever since the Crusades. The king must marry upon the soil of his homeland, or the marriage is not legal. Not here, anyway. When you weren't the king, this didn't matter. But now you are. And….there are certain powerful individuals who would like nothing better than to ally you with someone more…suitable, politically. To them, at least. That would reduce the Lady Gwen's status to that of…"and here he paused, clearly embarrassed, "a royal concubine. Now I know," again he held up his hand, "that you would never do that. That isn't the point. The point is power. Although the crown of Markovia no longer carries the authority it once did, it still carries some, as well as a great amount of prestige. There are those who'd go to…considerable lengths to secure that for their faction."

"That's ridiculous!" exploded Terry. "I'd never marry anyone else!"

"Not even," said Butusov, "if something happened to your wife?"

Absolute silence.

"And I don't necessarily mean death. I'm told there are a number of slow acting poisons that require regular doses of the antidote to prevent them from killing the person thus afflicted. She could be held hostage…right before your very eyes." He saw their expressions. "Please understand, you two. I hope I'm being alarmist, but we do know your sister was poisoned. That much is an established fact. In that particular operation, our enemies succeeded. If one's methods succeed once, they are likely to be tried again. What's the American expression? 'If it isn't broken, don't fix it'?"

"Well, then," said Terry, recovering from the nightmare picture he'd just had of a dead Gwen, "the solution's simple. Gwen and I will just get re-married-reaffirm our vows, anyway—here on Markovian soil. That ought to take care of that." She hooked her arm through his, supportively.

"A sound plan, lad. And that is why I've insisted upon referring to you," to Gwen, "by your title, a title you merit anyway. But…my liege…we must be cautious. As I said, there are those to whom such intrigue is second nature, and I'm sure they've come to the same conclusion. Until your coronation is complete, and you've reaffirmed your vows, I for one shall not sleep easy. I hope you don't think it presumptive of me, Your Majesty, when I tell you I've taken the liberty of ordering an extra security detail around the both of you, but particularly around your queen. And, my dear," to Gwen, "This will require some…changes in living, on your part."

"Oh?" Gwen raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? What sort of changes?"

"From now until the wedding, you will never eat anything not first tested, and perhaps tasted, by a trusted source. You will not be allowed to be alone—yes, I know you are powerful, physically, but so was Brianna. It did not save her. You must not be alone. I've handpicked some special forces personnel to accompany you at all times, and I do mean _all _times, as well as a number of highly-screened bodyguards, both male and female. The same will be true of your husband." He turned to Terry, who was already getting ready to protest. "Please, my lord. You must accept this. For all our sakes. You are the last heir. As of this moment, you have become Markovia's most irreplaceable citizen."

….

The Osiran capitol was immense, by human standards, covering nearly an eighth of the planet's surface. The planet itself was a great shining jewel, about the size of Earth's Jupiter, but with a solid surface. On the nightside, they could see lines of light emanating from population centers, radiating outward in perfectly straight lines, one to the other. Unlike the Osira they remembered, however, it was green and verdant with vegetation, with the sunlight from its homestar glittering off the nearly-freshwater seas. A human would have been blinded by the sheer intensity of the reflected light, even if they had been shielded from the direct rays of the star. Also unlike the Osira of their memory, the cities were built right upon the surface of the planet. In their universe, said cities had been built floating above ground. It made greater tactical sense. Evidently, times had changed.

The titanic green crystal tower in the center of the city was much as they both remembered such things, but the warriors they'd met at the spaceport, the bald, "beta" types such as those Omega had dealt with, back on Earth, in what seemed like a hundred years ago, were absolutely uninformative. Even though they conversed through Link, the same as Omega and Athena did, for some reason, they either refused or were unable to communicate with the two Prime warriors. Athena was especially shaken by their sheer lack of personality, even though Omega had told her what to expect. It is one thing to hear about something second-hand, but it's quite another to actually experience it for oneself.

They conversed with each other, in "private" mode in Link. {{Omega…this is disturbing to me. The warriors I knew were people. These….these are insects in humanoid form.}}

{{I know, Athena. It disturbed me, too. But…perhaps I am to blame. I did rebel against the Lords. What other response could I expect? They're the _Lords. Of course_ they redesigned the entire warrior caste to be incapable of independent action.}} Pause. {{Even as one tried to redesign you from the inside out. So…I am at least partially to blame for what happened to you. And I'd give anything I can think of to undo that.}}

A slight smile decorated her face. It wouldn't do to let anyone know they were communicating. {{You were not responsible. Yes, I'll grant you, perhaps your actions may have influenced the Lords to instigate the draconian measures they did…but nothing you did made the Lord Natal abuse me the way he did. That was of his own choosing, not yours. You cannot blame yourself for the evil of another.}}

{{I still wish I could have prevented that from happening.}}

She glanced at him. {{It's possible you prevented worse. Who knows what else he might have done, had you not killed him?}}

{{It's difficult to take comfort in things that did not happen, Athena. I understand what you are meaning, but…}}

{{Omega,}} she Linked sternly, {{what you are feeling is called _guilt_, and the truth is, it is uncalled for. Yes, I was…abused. _But not by you._ _You had nothing to do with that._ But you're blaming yourself for not being omniscient, for not knowing all, for not swooping in to save the day. _But you couldn't know._ Even _I_ didn't know what was happening, at the time. Remember?

{{Sometimes you _can't_ save the day, Omega. Sometimes the day can't be saved. Sometimes you have to settle for saving tomorrow, instead. And,}} and here she dared Link him a picture of her linking arms with him, {{There is no way to tell what sort of creature I might have become, had I had to live under Natal's domination any longer. I might have become a worse monster than he. So it may well be you saved _my_ tomorrows. But in any case, you need to let the past go. It solves nothing to, as Kitten would say, 'beat yourself up over it.'}}

They were coming up on the main entranceway to the palace. The beta warrior who'd shown them the way silently pointed down a long hallway. _Go that way._ There was nobody else in sight.

Omega and Athena proceeded down the hallway, arriving at a large semicircular area flanked by Thinkers' floating workstations and warriors' checkpoints. In the exact center of the room, atop a short flight of carved-marble steps, sat a figure. A huge figure, seated upon an immense U-shaped throne, and wearing lustrous black robes and a _tiki_ like mask.

_**{{So,}}**_ said the Osirus, looking down upon them from his throne, or rather, to use something closer to the Osiran term, his command center. _**{{I'm told you wish to see me, to discuss a matter of mutual survival?}}**_

{{We do. We-*}}

_**{{Before we begin. I find it interesting that you refer to yourselves by these 'names,' rather than the much more accurate numerical designation. How did this come to pass? For that matter, how did it happen that you found yourselves in the universe from which you came?}}**_

{{As to _how_ we came to be where we found ourselves, that we truly do not know. But both of us found ourselves upon a world in another universe, one capable of supporting life resembling our own, though, of course, very different internally. We have made it our own. It is the custom upon that world to employ names, via sonic vibrations in the local atmosphere, rather than numerical designation, as none of the natives can utilize Link.

{{We were joined not long ago by a colony of Thinkers, who, like us, have settled there. Together we are in the process of revolutionizing that world in the image of the vanished Empire we knew.}} That was the cover story they'd prepared.

_**{{So the two of you rule this world of which you speak?}}**_

Omega shook his head. {{No. We are warriors. There are givers of orders there, and we and the Thinkers work in cooperation with them.}}

_**{{Do the two of you speak for this world?}}**_

{{For our part of it, yes.}}

The Osirus was silent for a moment. Then he rose to his feet, towering over them, somehow majestic in just that simple movement. He stepped forward, stepping down the few steps that had separated him from the two Prime warriors before him. Both Omega and Athena could _feel_ his heightened senses examining them, looking them over.

The Osirus turned to Athena. _**{{You served the Lord Natal.}}**_ It was not a question.

Athena bowed her head slightly. {{I did.}}

Again, the Osirus was silent in Link for a long moment, scrutinizing her. Then, _**{{His crimes, his insanity, are legend among my caste. An abomination.}}**_ Athena said nothing, but the pain of the memories clearly showed in her face. _**{{You did not escape his madness.}}**_ Again, it was not a question. And again, Athena said nothing. The Osirus continued to examine her.

After what seemed to Omega like a small eternity, the Osirus "spoke" up once again. _**{{On behalf of the all the Lords of Osira, I…offer my sincerest apologies for what you went through. I realize that changes nothing. But it is heartfelt. No one should be treated as you were.}}**_

{{Thank you, Great One,}} replied Athena, the strain on her face lessening somewhat. {{It helps, somewhat.}}

The Osirus turned his attention to Omega. _**{{It is my understanding**_,_**}}**_ he began, speculatively, _**{{that the Lord Natal was slain by a renegade Prime warrior, a feat never duplicated, before or since.}}**_ His gaze never left Omega.

Omega bowed his head slightly. {{That is my understanding, too, Great One.}} Then he fell silent, his face impassive and expressionless.

The Lord looked the pair over for a few more minutes, then turned and returned to his throne. Once seated, one of the Thinkers brought him a notepad, which he gazed at momentarily. _**{{Very well. Tell me more of this world from which you both come, your new home. And tell me of this danger you spoke of. Let us investigate and see,}}**_ he said in Link, _**{{What might be done.}}**_

_**...**_

Our universe, deep beneath the Rocky Mountains:

Garfield had to hand it to Gizmo. He never let up. He'd built machines that built machines that built _more_ machines.

He and Terra, with the assistance of Angelique and Deena, had made steady progress towards reviving the underground complex. As Gizmo had said, everything here had been built to last, and none of it had deteriorated to any large degree.

Gizmo drove himself hard. Beast Boy could only shake his head in amazement. This was a different Gizmo from the pint-sized trouble maker they'd come to be familiar with. "So what's all this for, again, Giz?"

Gizmo was taking a breather, sitting on a rock, wiping the sweat from his brow. One thing about Gizmo, Gar noted: he wasn't afraid of hard work. "Last resort. You saw _Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers_, right? Well, this is Helm's Deep. It's the ultimate bolt-hole, at least…it's the best we can do." He sighed. Unlike some of the others, Gizmo lacked superhuman endurance, and Garfield doubted he'd been eating properly. He'd have to speak to Angelique about that.

"But you seem to think it won't work."

"Not if what I'm suspecting is true, no. But it's the best we can do. Unless you guys got something better." He shot a challenging glare at the green skinned Titan. "And…I have another idea, but we have to get set up here first."

Before Garfield could respond, Angelique came up, with Deena in tow. "Hey, Gizmo. Deena's gonna haveta leave, her brother's vacation time is up. So she'll be leaving soon."

"Yeah? Well, good riddance."

"Gizmo! You take that back right this instant! Why, Deena's been nothing but good to you this whole time! Now you take that back or I'll-*"

"Awright, awright! Okay. It was just a joke. Cheese Louise, you guys are seriously bent outta shape." He looked at them all. No friendly faces. Normally, he wouldn't have cared that much, but he needed their help. Just as they needed his. So they didn't think he had any manners, did they?

He got up and went over to where the two girls were. Garfield and Terra looked on from a short distance away.

They wanted manners? Okay, he could do manners.

Gizmo went up to Deena. "Deena? It's been a pleasure knowing you. I appreciate all the help you've given me, and I hope you'll be able to come back this way before long." Gar and Terra's mouth hung open. Was this really _Gizmo_? Had somebody switched places with him when they weren't looking? Were there pods in the basement?

Gizmo went on. "Thank you for helping me." He trailed off, uncertain as to what to say next. He'd used up all the stock phrases he'd picked up from television…

Deena was holding something out to him, something on a small chain. "She wants you to have that, Gizmo," translated Angelique. "To remember her by."

Gizmo took the chain—it looked like a key fob—and examined it. Attached to one end was an odd looking piece of white substance, thin, that looked like it had broken off of a larger piece. "She says be careful, or you might cut yourself."

"But what is this?" Gizmo fingered the strange white substance. It was heavier than it looked, curved slightly, polished, and smooth all around. It looked almost like a piece of…a piece of an….

"It's a piece of the eggshell she was hatched from. She wants you to have it, to, to remember her by."

"Whoa. Wait. You mean to say, Deena was _hatched_? Like, from an actual _egg_ an' all?"

"Of course, _doofus._ Hence the term _eggshell._ She wants you to have it. As a keepsake." But Gizmo wasn't listening.

"You mean to say, she actually _hatched?_ Whoa. Man….that is…that is actually seriously cool. It makes so much more sense than…well, you know what I mean. Hatched, huh?" The whole time, Deena stood before Gizmo, eyes downcast shyly. "Thank you, Deena."

Angelique couldn't resist any longer. _"Deena and Gizmo sittin' in a tree! Kay Eye Ess Ess Eye In-*"_ She never got to the finish, as Deena shot her a scorching glare, and then grabbed Gizmo's head in her hands and pulled him into a clumsy kiss.

"MmmHmmPhhmm!" He couldn't break free; she was way too strong. But she finally let him go. "_Yuck! Cooties! I got girl cooties all over me!"_ And he raced off for the nearest bathroom, while Angelique literally rolled on the ground, laughing.

Terra came up alongside Deena. "Don't worry about it, Deena. He'll come around." She sighed. "Trust me: they always do."

…..

Kitten sought out Raven. The violet-haired sorceress was just finishing up a report—of a sort—to the Watchtower. It mostly consisted of the search of the _Deson,_ and its disappearance, and of their fears and suppositions. She hadn't included any details regarding Omega and Athena's mission to Osira; she fervently hoped it wouldn't need to come to light. At least not for a while yet. "Raven? Got a minute?"

"Of course, Kitten. What's on your mind?"

Kitten backed up against a console, crossing her arms, her tail twitching nervously. "I'm…worried." She didn't have to add who she was worried about.

Raven could understand. Kitten's lover and his friend had gone into the very heart of a powerful, expanding interstellar empire, to speak with a being or beings who could control minds. They would both have to exercise extreme caution; this was no light undertaking. "I know, Kitten. But Omega believes they have a good chance of success. And besides, this is something we'd have to do, sooner or later, anyway." The Osirans weren't going away, and while they weren't an immediate problem, the very fact that they existed could lead to a more immediate solution. At the very least they could possess some insight or information that could lead to a solution.

Kitten sighed. "Alpha and I have designed a failsafe into the retrieval program. If one or both of them come back…you know, _changed…_it'll set off an alarm, and, and they'll be placed in a stasis field automatically." That last part had been decided upon without the knowledge of either of the Osirans. If their minds were compromised, such a failsafe would be revealed anyway, so it was best if they didn't know. Although Raven knew Omega and Athena would both approve of such a measure, she still felt uneasy about implementing it. Of course, if the failsafe did go off, and imprison their two friends in such a field, that would definitely answer the question as to whether or not the Osirans could be trusted to any degree. But it would be a high price to pay.

"Has Alpha said anything about being able to undo such, what would you call it, control attempts?"

"He says he thinks they can. But what was done to Athena was…clumsy, by comparison, not much more than simple human-style brainwashing. Omega and Athena will be going up against some of the most powerful Lords, maybe even the Osirus himself. From what I gather, he's lightyears beyond this Natal creep. His control might not show up."

"We can only do what we can do." Privately, Raven wondered if she would feel differently if Hank were the one to be going on this mission. Could she stand the notion of Hank coming back as not-Hank?

She didn't know.

"Something else." Kitten handed her a sheaf of reports. "Captain Yeats sent us this. It may be nothing, but then again…seems there've been some reports of missing persons." She shrugged. "Normally, not our thing. But the thing is, the cars and the belongings for the missing men have been turning up—but with no trace of the men themselves. Unless you count a lot of drying blood and torn clothing, that is. Forensics says the damage to the clothes looks like some kinda animal. But there's no trace of saliva, bits of claws or teeth, or DNA. So he thought it might be up our alley."

Raven took the reports, leafed through them. There were several photos of the interiors of the cars belonging to the missing men—it was always men, she noticed-, and, while there were copious amounts of blood scattered about, there was, as Kitten had said, no trace of the bodies themselves. That was odd. Any animal would have left _something_. And surely a human serial killer wouldn't have left such obvious evidence of murder, not if they were trying to cover it up by removing the body. What would be the point? "I'll have Cyborg and Haywire look into it." Nemesis and Deena had left earlier than morning, and Raven was mildly surprised to discover how much their leaving had affected her. She'd grown attached to them both, and now they weren't here anymore.

She wondered how Nemesis—Jasson—would react if he knew she was trying to come up with a means of basically defying the will of his God. Could their relationship survive that? Would they still remains friends?

She fervently hoped so. "Any word on the _Deson?_" It had been three days since they'd heard from the Hunter starship, and Raven was beginning to believe they never would. The Orb was somewhat less than helpful on the matter; whenever she tried to broach the subject, the alien entity had simply responded that they, the crew and the ship, were "gone." But it had never elaborated on just what it meant by that.

Of course, that might not necessarily mean what they were afraid of. The Orb had always had difficulty understanding the mortal concept of "death."

"No. I'm…beginning to fear the worst. And…Raven, they weren't that far away from us, cosmologically speaking. If…if something got them, it would have to be pretty close by.

"I know." The Entity had been quiet lately, too, and Raven had been reluctant to change that, since they were, after all, seeking another solution to the universal extinction effect than the one it was offering. How would it react?

She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Now might be a good time to bring in some reservists. We're down to just you, me, Blackfire, Cyborg and Hank, at least until Omega and Athena get back." _Always assuming they come back unchanged._ "We could use the help. Get Cyborg to run down a list of the most likely candidates, and I'll give a couple of them a call. And, Kitten?" Kitten nodded morosely. "Try not to worry so much. It isn't as if this is the first time Omega's faced this sort of thing, you know. If anybody can pull this off, he can."

"I know." Kitten headed for the door. Just before she reached it, Raven's sharp ears heard her whisper, to herself, "but what if nobody can?"

…

Upstairs on the residence level: Raven keyed open the door to her room, sighing as she heaved off her robe. The mantle of leadership was a heavy burden sometimes; she halfway wished Jasson and Deena had been able to stay a while longer. It was good to just…be with friends.

But of course they couldn't. Like her, they had jobs to do, responsibilities beyond this world. She only hoped her actions wouldn't drive them from her.

There was an enormous book on her desk. Startled, she looked it over; the thing was easily twenty inches across and possibly two feet in length, with what appeared to be gilt-edged pages, bound with silver clasps. It had to be at least two to two and half inches thick, and gave the impression of tremendous age.

Of course, there was only one way for it to be in her room without her having put it there. {{You,}} she thought at the Entity, {{This is of your doing?}}

**{{Of course it is, Raven. This is my Book.}}**

{{Your Book?}} She'd sensed the capital letter.

**{{Yes, my Book. This tells about Me, Raven, how I began, why I began, and what I hope to ultimately do. This is my plan, not just for mankind, but for all creation.}}**

Raven moved over towards the immense tome. So. This…might contain all the answers to questions she'd asked herself, but frankly hadn't wanted to ask the Entity itself.

But there were some things she felt she had to know, had to speak to it about. Gathering her nerve, she asked, {{You know about my conversation with Omega?}}

**{{Of course. I could hardly be the nigh-omniscient being I am without knowing about it.}}**

{{_Are_ you trying to seduce me?}}

She sensed the being's surprise. **{{But of course I am, Raven. Was there ever any doubt? But I think you have the wrong idea about what is meant by 'seduction,' at least in this sense.**

**{{You—meaning human society as a whole, at this point in time—have placed a very negative connotation on the word. That's not the way I mean it. Yes, I seek to…persuade you to see things my way. I am, in a manner of speaking, 'courting' you. I want you, and, as the popular song goes, I want you to want Me. But not for selfish reasons. I do not **_**need**_** you, I do not **_**need**_** humanity. But the simple truth is, humanity needs ****Me.**** I'm trying to get you to understand that.**

**{{I can't blame you for being suspicious. Mortal, organic lifeforms—and even some immortal, non-organic ones—are accustomed to the notion of survival at the expense of others, the condition of predation. But all that is, is a zero-sum game: just getting enough to get by. I'm trying to build something better, a better creation.}}**

{{By absorbing all that is.}}

**{{Can you truly think of a better way? Would you rather have me—or anyone, for that matter—just come in, overpower everything in existence, sit on some highly overrated golden throne somewhere, and dictate everybody's least little action? That wouldn't be better; that would be Hell. Or at least a good start towards Hell.}}**

She sat down and rubbed her face. Talking with the Entity sometimes seemed a little draining on her. The thing had an answer for everything, but she couldn't help but think there were some things it just wasn't telling her. But what?

**{{But on the other hand, if all humanity is One within Me, and I am One with Them, then how can that be a dictatorship? How can that be Hell? Hell, by definition, is a place you don't want to be. How could you not want to be Yourself?}}**

{{I don't know. I've…managed to, for some years.}}

The Entity was silent for a few minutes. Then, **{{Raven. Look up.}}** She did, even though she knew the Being was invisible. She focused her gaze on a spot in the air a bit higher than her head, between where her head would be when standing and the ceiling.

There was something in the air. Something she couldn't quite see, but something she could sense, nonetheless. **{{Take it, Raven. It's yours. No strings attached.}}**

Raven hesitated. She knew, of course, what it was, what it had to be. It was something that would make her feel better. She had no doubt it would have that effect. But she also had no doubt that it would be like a drug, a narcotic. It would work…for a while. Then it would wear off, and she'd want it again, and more…

**{{How little you know about me, Raven. I wouldn't drug you. This gift isn't even about you. It's about Me. Go ahead; take it. Don't be afraid.}}**

Slowly, hesitantly, she reached up and, almost against her will, extended her hands into the shimmering spot in space…

_The planet Earth, as seen from space, not as an astronaut would see it, but as a God would see it: billions of pinpoints of light, each one a soul, separate and alone in the night. Souls in pain, and one soul in particular. One soul that had known nothing but pain, and had tried to shut that pain away for nearly two decades._

_A soul burdened by a crushing weight of emotional anguish, touched with more than a little self-loathing. A soul that wished she could be someone else, anyone else._

_The God saw this soul, not as a single point at a specific time, but from the moment of conception to the present day. All her yesterdays were as one single instant. The God perceived her without seeing her as she saw herself, but as something much, much better. Not as someone who __could__ be better, but as someone who already __was__._

_And the God perceived her potential. Not her potential to serve it, but her potential to be a happier person, to be better for herself, to herself._

_It was not a one-way street, not totally. The soul could do things for the God, even as the God could do things for the soul. It was a partnership, each serving the other, not from self-centeredness, but from mutual respect and love._

Raven came to herself, with the realization that tears were running down her face. "You…you shouldn't have done that," she said aloud, completely forgetting to use the telepathic communication they'd just been having.

**{{I once told you I wanted our relationship to be based on honesty, Raven. I haven't changed my mind. And, yes, I know about Omega and Athena's expedition to Osira, to try to find a way to stave off the universal extinction. You needn't try to hide such things from me.**

**{{And I'll say this: there is a chance they might succeed. The Osirans possess technological powers beyond anything you can even imagine, beyond even magic. There might possibly be a way to keep the universe from Ending, or at least to save humanity, that wouldn't involve Me or my offer. They could succeed.**

**{{But what I want you to ask yourself is, do you really want them to?}}**

_To be continued...  
_


	13. Chapter 13: Intrigue

Tales of the Titans: Godwar, Part 3: Intrigue

….

_If you want to get a visual for what Gwendolyn Markov looks like, check out Nancy171112's Deviantart portrait of "Beast Girl." How could anyone NOT fall in love with her?_

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Of course._

_Please read and review!_

…

New Osira: the two Prime warriors had been shown to a room where they could wait. Their audience with the Osirus had been…informative, in a way.

The "room" would have seemed extraordinarily bare by human standards. There was no desk or computer terminal, because, with Link, there was no need for one. There was no furniture, since a warrior's normal resting position was a heel-sitting kneeling position on the floor. There was no bed, since Osirans do not sleep as humans understand the term. It was basically a box with an entrance.

They conversed in "private" Link mode, hoping the Osirans had not found some way to eavesdrop on that. If they had, then all was lost. {{What have you learned?}} asked Athena.

{{Much the same as you have. I have, however, deduced some things that may prove beneficial.}}

{{Such as?}}

{{The Osirus did not seem surprised to learn of another universe. Unsurprising in itself; that's how they survived this time. But he didn't find the concept of parallel worlds, parallel universes all that outré.

{{Nor did he seem surprised at the mention of the reason for the universal extinction effect. I surmise from this that his own Thinkers have probably discovered, or at least theorized, that what Raven was told by the Entity—the perception of intelligent beings, the deaths of innocents, and so forth-to be the reason.

{{And, Athena: this is the _Osirus_ we're talking about. All that talk about conferring with the other Lords…the Osirus's word is _law._ He doesn't _have _to confer with the others. That was a delaying tactic, pure and simple.}}

{{And its purpose is?}}

{{To see what we'll do, obviously.}} Suddenly, he grinned, a gesture very much foreign to any Osiran. But perhaps not to a shark. {{So I guess we'd best show them.}}

….

Across hypertime: Gwen and Terry had digested what Butusov had told them, not happily, but seeing the necessity. _Never thought I'd be caught up in royal intrigue,_ thought Gwen.

When Butusov had said she shouldn't be alone, ever, he'd meant every word of it. She had chambermaids that followed her everywhere, even when she took a bath. Fortunately, she was able to persuade them to allow her some privacy for…_other_ bathroom matters.

Nor were these ordinary chambermaids. While Gwen couldn't be sure, they seemed to be awfully trim and fit to be, essentially, housekeepers and servants. She even spotted what looked like military tattoos on a couple of them. She smirked to herself; something told her each of them probably could have given kung fu lessons to army recruits.

Terry had his own set of guards, but these were not disguised as anything but military personnel. Except for one, who followed him everywhere, a large red-haired man, who was always garbed in civilian attire, usually a loose fitting cardigan, and heavy weave cargo pants. He was a little over six feet, and his face seemed carved out of solid iron. The way he moved reminded Gwen of Batman back home: perfectly balanced, and fully aware of his surroundings at all times.

And, also like the Dark Knight, he seemed to find conversation an unnecessary evil. When Gwen had asked him his name, he'd hesitated, then replied, simply, "Dmitri."

"Dmitri …who?" Gwen felt a little funny referring to a man a good decade older than she was by his first name.

Another hesitation, this one longer than the last. Then, "My Lady, my last name has been unimportant for nearly as long as you have been alive. I am simply Dmitri." And with that he fell silent.

Terry caught her eye and shook his head, smiling. "You won't get any more out of him, Gwen. Believe me, I've tried."

The couple still had some times alone. One, of course, was bedtime. Butusov had tentatively suggested they move into separate rooms, at least until the ceremony, fearing a scandal, but they'd both veto'd _that._ If somebody wanted to make an issue of it, fine. Let them.

Butusov had sighed, and retreated from the field of battle, shaking his head. Terry and Gwen both worried about him; he was obviously not getting enough sleep. And they privately acknowledged that, in a manner of speaking, he had a point about the separate rooms, though not the one he'd mentioned, and one he perhaps had been careful not to point out: being in one room could invite disaster. One surface-to-surface missile, fired from outside the castle grounds….

Because of this, Butusov saw to it that they changed rooms frequently, rotating through several on a random basis. Hopefully, this would serve to foil such attacks.

Of course, it was an unspoken truth that Terry would be the target of such an attack. Needless to say, Gwen was not about to leave his side in light of that. If they went, it would be together.

Plus, should they have to use Ray's spell, they would need to be touching when they said the word.

Well, thought Gwen with a naughty smile, at least the _touching_ part wasn't a problem.

But Dmitri patrolled the grounds at night, apparently not needing to sleep, his sharp blue eyes missing nothing. He was never without his customized Kalashnikov AK-47, with its underslung rocket propelled grenade launcher. And the rifle itself was usually stuffed with armor-piercing ammo. Gwen had to admit, having him around was like having your own private platoon of soldiers.

And she wondered about his past. He had a distinct Russian accent. She could easily believe him to be _spetsnaz_, or the equivalent. Whatever the case was, they were both glad he was on their side.

Always assuming, of course, that he was.

Thursday: Terry, although not yet crowned, conducted an informal meeting with the various officials he'd be dealing with. One by one, they each came up to him, sitting on the throne that would soon be his, and expressed their condolences for the loss of his father and sister, as well as their hopes for Terry's upcoming reign. And while some seemed sincere, there were more than a couple whom Terry could tell were simply saying what was expected of them. Well, alright. He couldn't expect everyone to be genuinely sorry. That was politics. _Was it like this for you, father?_

The Prime Minister Peter Petrowski approached the throne. "Your Highness. Words fail me. I grieve for the loss of your sister and your father." He gave a short bow of respect.

"Your sentiments are appreciated, Mr. Prime Minister. This is a difficult time for us all." To the group as a whole, "We will need your cooperation and support during this time of transition." Sigh. Then, to all of them, "This is a position I never wanted. But things we don't want have a way of finding us anyway, sometimes. So we must all pull together, for the good of Markovia, and the Markovian people."

"Here, here!" Several officials raised their glasses in a toast to the new king.

The Prime Minister cleared his throat. It was remarkable how just that simple gesture could draw attention the way it did. "Your Majesty. I'm given to understand that your coronation will also double as your wedding ceremony?"

"It will. Gwen and I will reaffirm our vows here, upon Markovian soil. This matter was brought to my attention a while back."

"A….most…efficient way of resolving several matters of importance, to be sure." He turned to Gwen, and gave a short bow of respect. "Lady Gwendolyn. Your photographs do not do you justice."

"Thank you, Mr. Prime Minister." But Gwen's animal senses were on high alert. Something…was very wrong.

"It is customary," began the Prime Minister, "for such events to be held separately, but there is nothing to say they cannot be held together." He looked both Gwen and Terry in the eye. For some reason, neither of them seemed to be able to see past the outer surface of his eyeballs.

Terry shifted on the throne. "As you say, Mr. Prime Minister, it is an efficient use of the time. And," and here, he looked at Gwen, taking her small hand in his, "I know that, if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing. So I'm doing it all over again."

"Of course, Your Highness." There was a pause. Then, "And I understand how such things are, growing up in America as you did. Even without the ceremony of coronation, you would be and of course are perfectly free to marry….whatever…you choose."

And just like that, a pall of silence suddenly descended upon the entire throne room. Terry's eyes narrowed, taking in the man in front of him. Later on, he would think how strange it was, that the usage of a single word could convey so much information. As it was, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Petrowski, but would you mind repeating that last statement?"

"I merely observed that, as a legal adult, you are perfectly free to marry whatever, or perhaps _whomever_ would be a better word, you choose." Pause. "Perhaps I misspoke, in the previous sentence." Another short bow. But this one seemed totally faked. The other officials looked on, some nervously, some out of curiosity, some for both reasons. And possibly some for altogether different reasons entirely.

Terrance Markov, soon to be crowned King of his country, leaned forward slightly and affixed his gaze on the man in front of him. Staring at him right in the eyes. The Prime Minister returned his gaze quite calmly, his face and eyes revealing nothing of his inner thoughts. Across the room, glasses of water tinkled as ripples raced across the surface of the liquid within. No-one (except Gwen) noticed the ever-so-slight vibration in the ground causing that. She reached over and put a hand on his arm.

"I see," said Terry, at long last, and Gwen could swear she saw frost forming on the window panes. "I believe that will be all, Mr. Petrowski." He arose from the throne. "Now, if you all would please excuse us…" And the party dispersed.

Back in their rooms. Terry paced back and forth like a caged tiger. "I can't _believe_ it, Gwen! I can't believe what I just heard!" He stopped and turned to her. "He actually had the nerve to, to call you a, a 'whatever' A _thing! _ Right there in front of everybody! In front of _me!_" Terry looked as though he wanted to rip somebody apart. Especially if their last name happened to begin with a "P."

Gwen sat on their bed, looking up at him. "Terry…get ahold of yourself. Yeah, it was an insult. But it's not the first time this kind of thing has happened to me."

He looked at her, eyes widening. He'd never dreamed… "It's not?"

She shrugged, a slight smile on her face. She was upset too, but it wouldn't do to get him more worked up. "Well, after all, I _am_ a charter member of the world's smallest minority, you know. So, yeah, this isn't the first time I've encountered this sort of thing."

Terry was still seething. His wife, _his wife_ had just been _publicly insulted_. "The office of Prime Minister is an _appointed _office. He is _so_ outta there…"

Now she got up and went over to him, wrapping her arms around him, her mere presence soothing his rage. "Honey…no, don't you see? This was no accident. He didn't just 'misspeak,' or anything like that. He chose every word very carefully, and, moreover, chose the precise time to say it. He was _trying_ to push your buttons, see what you'd do."

"Yeah, well, he succeeded."

"But look at what this tells us. The fact that he chose _now_ to say it, and in the manner that he did…he must feel pretty secure in his position to feel like he could get away with something like this. Which means he's probably not acting alone. He has supporters. Who, we don't know. And all this may have been a distraction. As you said, it was a public insult, no doubt about that. So why now? Why today? Why in this manner? And why from _him?_"

He held her close. "I'm…just sorry you had to hear that. That totally surprised me. I never dreamed…."

She raised her face, looking up at him from within his embrace. "You know, it's not just the green skin. It's the whole changing into animals thing. Some people don't see me as a human being who can turn into animals, but as an animal who can become human. Sort of." She sighed, there in his arms. "And if someone really and truly believes that, then you, my love, are guilty of beastiality. Not that human beings ever needed any rational reason for prejudice, anyway. But with me, they have one ready-made."

He was silent. The phrase _keep your friends close, but your enemies closer_ flitted through his mind. "Well, I suppose I can begin to see what had Rory alarmed so. If there are people like that, in positions of authority, no less….perhaps his precautions were not overdone, after all."

"Remember what Omega always said? 'Aware of the danger, we proceed with caution.' So we proceed with caution. Especially around the office of Prime Minister."She laid her head against his chest. "Maybe it's time to see what's in that secret safe your father mentioned."

"Right. I'll summon Rory." He disengaged from her and reached for the intercom. Just as he was about to punch in the "call" button, someone signaled for entrance.

Frowning, he crossed over the small room and opened the door.

Chancellor Butusov stood just outside, yawning. "You wished to see me, Your Grace?"

"Uh, yes, I did, but, how did you know….?" His gaze traveled across and down the hallway, where he spied Dmitri's hulking form leaning up against a wall. The red-haired giant looked him in the eye and nodded a curt nod, then resumed his ceaseless scanning of the hallways in all directions. "Oooookay." Had the bodyguard been listening the whole time? "Uh, yes, Rory. We need your help again…."

…

New Osira: Athena and Omega sat in the room they'd been assigned to, simply looking at each other.

Or so it seemed. In reality, they were conversing in Link, in "Private" mode. At least, they both fervently _hoped_ it was private. {{Are you ready?}}

{{Yes.}} He took a small sphere, about the size of a marble, out of a pocket in his uniform. Placed it on the floor between them.

{{This is a desperate plan, Omega.}}

{{Then it is appropriate, Athena. We are desperate people.}}

Outwardly, nothing seemed to happen. Shortly thereafter, however, the doorway to their room irised open, then closed again.

One of the Thinkers was making his way towards the next transport disk, carrying a stack of datacubes, when the female Prime warrior he'd heard about appeared in front of him. He knew a brief moment of fear; Primes, he'd heard, were not to be trusted. But this one seemed sane, at least. {{I wonder if you could help me,}} she began. {{I have been summoned to the third laboratory of the Lord Set. Not being from this planet, I am confused as to directions.}}

{{Of course.}} In his mind, the Thinker showed her, via Link, a detailed map to the area in question. {{If you follow these directions, you should have no trouble finding it.}}

{{Thank you. You've been most helpful.}} The female passed on by, even as the Thinker was left wondering what she meant by "thank you."

The Prime warrior made her way to the laboratory of the Lord Set. As expected, the laboratory was a beehive of activity, with Thinkers moving to and fro, some simply walking, others utilizing the transport disks. Several of them stopped to look at her.

One of the lead Thinkers approached her, somewhat hesitantly. The underlying fear that many Osirans seemed to have for Prime warriors was evident in her stance and her Linked communication. {{This is a secured area. You do not have clearance.}} There was nothing insulting about her remark; it was simply a statement of fact.

{{Of course. I find myself a bit lost. I am looking for the research facility assigned to the Lord Geb. I seem to be in the wrong place.}}

{{Indeed. This is a laboratory assigned to the Lord Set. The Lord Geb's area is on the other side of the complex.}}

{{Could you give me directions?}}

{{Certainly.}} And, just like the Thinker she'd previously met, she Linked her a detailed map of the complex, with clear directions to the area in question.

{{Thank you. I will be going now.}} She turned, but paused. {{You are attempting to produce hypercrystals? I worked on a similar project, back in my version of the Empire. But that was a long time ago.}}

{{Er, yes. We are on the verge of success.}} The Thinker was a bit nervous, and would remain so until the unauthorized Prime left.

The Prime glanced at the large spherical crystal taking shape underneath the force-fields of the surrounding machinery. {{It might interest you to know we, also, experienced the same problems you are having.}}

{{Problems? We are experiencing no problems.}}

{{Only because you have not yet attempted to activate the crystal. See that?}} She drew the Thinker's attention to a specific spot on the spheroid. {{Examine it closely. Those particular molecules are not in accordance with design specifications.}}

The Thinker's already-large eyes widened even further. {{Indeed they are not. How did that happen?}}

{{Hazarding a guess, I would say you _partially_ powered the crystal up. But what you may—what you must—be unaware of is that the process of activating the crystal produces a resonating internal frequency that changes it, ever so slightly. These miniscule errors build up in the system, then when you attempt to fully power the crystal, they collapse. Usually catastrophically. }}

{{But…we _must_ activate the crystal in stages. To do otherwise is to invite disaster. How can we avoid this error compilation?}}

{{If you design an autonomous self-correcting feature into the crystal, it will "heal" itself with each use and subsequent damage. The problem with that is, it requires a much more complicated system, and usually a separate sub-system to oversee the correction process. That sub-system must have the template for the completed system in its "memory," to which it can refer for information when it is needed to initiate those corrections.}} She shrugged; the Thinker wondered what that gesture meant. {{It is simply a bit more complicated, is all.}}

Intrigued despite herself, the Thinker rubbed her chin. {{How,}} she began, {{did you overcome this problem? How did you design this self-correcting sub-system?}} The other Thinkers queued up to them in fascination.

Had someone set off a bomb in the Thinkers' lab, the Thinkers would have simply thrown up the requisite force-fields, summoned warriors, and continued on with their work, with hardly a missed beat. But suggest a new and better way of accomplishing a given task, provide new information on how to make a project succeed…and the entire lab came to a halt, while the Thinkers themselves were distracted.

Just as planned.

_To be continued..._


	14. Chapter 14: By Mortal Hands

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3, Chapter 14: By Mortal Hands

_Once again, I refer you to Nancy 171112's Deviantart portrait of "Beast Girl," if you'd like to see what Gwendolyn Markov looks like. I cannot recommend her highly enough!_

_..._

Meanwhile, the male warrior had made his way to his destination. He did not stop to ask for directions, but occasionally used his senses—and the Link—to locate the spot he was looking for.

New Osira was huge, a planet fully the size of Jupiter back in Earth's solar system. Unlike Jupiter, however, it possessed a solid, terrestrial style surface. Its inhabitants had made commuting from one place to another as easily as possible for a high-end technological civilization.

There were teleport disks stationed at strategic intervals, as well as larger quantum teleport booths, designed for either larger creatures or cargo. And there were airborne shuttles, operating on the v-q drive that the natives themselves used for flight. Some of the shuttles were more for sight-seers, diplomats, as this was the capitol world of the Empire, and therefore a tourist attraction, sort of. These shuttles consisted of what would appear to human eyes as great clear crystal spheres, operated by thought. One summoned one, boarded, and _thought_ about one's destination, and the crystal sphere would take one to that location, while providing a superb view of the city in all directions.

The Prime warrior eschewed the use of any of these. No matter how convenient they might be, he knew that using them would be subject to surveillance somewhere along the way. And where he was going….

….was definitely not where he was supposed to be.

Using his senses, he passed up several major technological centers, opting instead for an out-of-the-way base at the foot of a mountain range higher than anything on Earth. He looked up in appreciation. In all his years of living on Sol III, he'd become _accustomed_, he guessed, to, well, a _lesser_ planet. Osira just had _more_ of pretty much everything Earth did: sunlight, gravity, atmosphere, and topography. Not to mention the _people_, the _civilization._ It was…It was like coming home, after being gone for so long.

Right now, he noticed some clouds building up towards the northwest. If he was any judge, it would soon be raining here, a torrential rain far greater than anything seen on Earth. Back on the world he knew as Osira, one of his guilty pleasures had been simply watching the storm, watching the lightning strafe the sky, nature's own fireworks display.

He shook his head ever so slightly. It wouldn't do to get caught up in nostalgia. This world might—make that did—make him homesick, but the world he now acknowledged as being home was far away. Everybody he cared about (with one exception) was there. Still, he couldn't help but sneak a glance around at the building storm. So much like home.

Steeling his resolve, he stealthed himself, and moved in on the small collection of domes nestled against the side of the largest of the mountains. Yes. That was a good candidate.

Still invisible, and with a firm lock on his mind to keep stray thoughts from leaking out, he phased through the solid rock beneath the larger of the domes, and came up inside, already scanning for security.

There was none. Evidently, these Osirans trusted their warriors to the point where they had no security protocols at all. Or, he cautioned himself, none he could detect.

Still, that did not mean he should drop all stealth measures. Far from it.

Very, very carefully, in full stealth mode, he approached the base, every sense alert….

…

Across hypertime: Gwen and Terry were back in the royal study with a mystified Butusov. "But I don't understand, Your Majesty," he was saying, "I am aware of the safe behind the Lady Genevieve's portrait, but there is no other here. Certainly none I know about."

"That's alright, Rory. My father told me about it before he died."

"He-he did?"

"Yes. He said I had the key. Of course, it's fairly obvious what he meant." Terry raised a hand, gesturing towards the back of the opened safe, from which all the contents had been removed. His hand and eyes glowed yellow….

….and there was a sudden sharp _crack!_ as a perfect square of the very back of the safe detached itself in a cloud of dust, sliding out like a well-oil desk drawer, out and out, until a block of stone a good four feet in length levitated free from the wall. Terry set it aside, and Gwen produced a flashlight. Butusov looked on, fascinated. "I never dreamed…"

"_I_ was the key, old friend. With Bree gone, the only way into this hidden vault would be by the use of my powers. Even then, I'd have to know just where it was. Now. Let's see what's in it…"

Within the hidden chamber thus revealed were several journals, some ancient seeming books, and nearly a hundred data disks. "Something tells me these'll be _very_ informative," said Gwen. Then, to Butusov, "We need a secure computer, one not hooked to any network. And uh," she glanced at the disks, "probably multi-bootable, too. We don't know what operating system these things were written on."

…..

The picture came on, the image stabilizing. Pictured was the woman in the portrait, whom Butusov had identified as Lady Genevieve. She was dressed precisely like the portrait, round eyeglasses sitting atop her head, white lab coat spotless, and was seated on the edge of a desk, with the background of a bank of machinery behind her. Her nametag read, "Dr. MacDougal."

"_I'm preparing this report for posterity, in case my work here should be interrupted. Charles tells me there are political forces at work than could threaten that. This is far too important to let petty matters of internal politics scuttle it, so this disk—and many others—will be sealed away in a special chamber he's preparing._

"_My name is Gen MacDougal, PHD, doctor of astrophysics, biology, microbiology—well, you can read a complete list of my qualifications elsewhere. To continue._

"_I came to this country a little over five years ago following an unprecedented event: a gamma ray burst of absolutely incredible power, coming from far, far out across the stars. To give a brief overview, gamma ray bursts, or GRB's, as they're sometimes called, seemed to happen at random far across the heavens. And for this we can be immeasurably thankful; such is the power of these bursts that, should one occur anywhere near Earth, it would sterilize the solar system._

"_But the sheer power of this burst isn't what attracted my attention. True, it was, for a brief time, the strongest single source of energy in the observable universe, and, I might add, we don't even have any good theories about what sort of cosmic mechanism could produce a blast that powerful, but even that isn't the issue. What brought it to my attention were two things._

"_One, it lasted slightly longer than such bursts normally do, long enough for us to triangulate on its position. As near as we can tell, there is nothing out there, at least, nothing we can see._

"_But the most remarkable thing about it was this: it wasn't just a blast of high-intensity radiation. No, this burst of gamma rays was actually coherent. That's correct: this was not just a gamma ray burst, but a gamma ray __laser__ burst. A graser._

"_Now, some stellar phenomena do emit coherent light naturally. In some areas of space, stars or other energy sources may excite gas clouds in precisely the way we do here on Earth to stimulate the emission of radiation in coherent form. So it isn't impossible. But what drew my attention, and has held it ever since, has been the complexity of the signal._

"_Normally, naturally occurring laser light carries no data. It's equivalent to naturally occurring radio waves: pretty much background noise, static, if you will. But this signal—for so I believe it to be—was far more complex than mere static. Far more complex. No, it seemed to actually be carrying data, of a sort."_ Here, the speaker paused a moment, pulling her tinted glasses off her head and chewing on the earpieces, absently, in a thoughtful way, swinging her crossed leg slightly. _"Now, here's where it gets…perhaps a little strange._

"_One of my special interests is in the field of panspermia, the theory that life on Earth actually began somewhere else. The common thought is that of spores or other, similar simple organisms, traveling across space, propelled by light pressure, throughout millions, even billions of years, until they finally find a world where they can take root and thrive. We see similar occurrences on new volcanic islands: once they cease erupting and stabilize, it usually doesn't take long for plants and animal life forms to make their way there._

"_But what if it wasn't like that? Or rather, what if it didn't have to be like that? What if, instead, life could ride as information on a beam of coherent gamma radiation? All the way across the stars, to our green and fertile world?_

"_We know that it's possible to use sufficiently advanced lasers to actually build matter, molecules, directly. A beam of coherent gamma rays, because of their extremely high frequency, would be able to carry far more information than any laser or maser known to man, and certainly far more than any radio signal._

"_What if this gamma ray laser blast is actually Something's way of reproducing? And if so…what could it be?"_

…..

New Osira: The Osirus was finishing up with the major reports for the day. His chief Thinker had apprised him of the progress made with regards to their conquest of this new vibrational universe. So far, all was proceeding in an orderly manner. _**{{And what,}}**_ he asked, _**{{Of our two guests, the Prime warriors?}}**_

**{{They remain within the room assigned to them. Do you wish to summon them?}}**

_**{{Not at the moment.}}**_ He thought for a moment. The Lords, all of them, were gifted with extraordinary insight and logistical planning capability, the Osirus more so than any other. This was the function of the Lords: to lead the other two castes in the war that was life. Being able to think several moves ahead of others was not just an advantage, it was a necessity. _**{{You have seen to it that Project XM-238 has been multiply archived, have you not?}}**_

**{{Of course, my Lord. Not only has it been archived here, but we have also placed complete plans, schematics, and advanced prototypes on two vacant worlds within the Canis Minus sector.}}**

_**{{Excellent. Now. Listen carefully. I want you to summon the personnel from laboratory TY567-38 to come here. I need to ask them about some particulars. And, I want you to summon them quietly. Let as few people as possible know of this meeting. Understood?}}**_

The Thinker was puzzled. **{{Of course, my Lord. I will summon them at once.}}**

The male's senses told him what he needed to know. This was the place; the project here would be what they needed. Or it should be. He sincerely hoped it was, for they'd only get one shot at this. One, and one only.

Kilometers away: The female Prime was using the Thinkers' own graphic interface software to illustrate the changes that needed to be made. The "slide show" used more and more power as she detailed the necessary procedures and the pitfalls along the way. More and more Thinker groupings tuned in, via Link, to watch, fascinated, as the process for building self-repairing hypercrystals was detailed, until nearly every Thinker within a three-hundred kilometer radius was raptly paying attention to the presentation.

Athena checked her time. _Right on schedule._ **{{So that is how we solved the matter, in my day. I'm sure, with modern techniques and skills, you could do much better, but perhaps this will be a good foundation to build upon. Plus, you've avoided the catastrophic collapse of the crystal when fully powered.}}**

**{{Indeed. You've saved us much work, and allowed us to avoid numerous and costly setbacks. You have our gratitude.}}** The Thinker bowed, a gesture of respect normally reserved for the Lords.

**{{Now I believe I should be getting along towards the laboratory of the Lord Geb. I am probably overdue, but perhaps my partner will be forgiving.}}**

**{{Certainly, milady.}}** The term seemed to come automatically to the Thinker, and she wondered where it had come from. But it seemed appropriate somehow.

Athena left, but rather than go to the laboratory of the Lord Geb, she joined Omega at the smallish base/lab he'd found. **{{You're sure this is it?}}**

**{{As sure as I can be without powering it up. I've run several scans, and this is a virtual carbon copy of the crystal mechanism found within the Osiran probe. It doesn't contain the complete source code that the other one did, but it will do what we need it to do.}} **He paused. **{{I hope.}} **He attached several small devices to the large crystal sphere he'd found, linked by a silvery wire. Athena slipped on a glove with several controls built in, as did he. **{{We must hurry.}}**

Osiran sensors registered the teleport tube open up as soon as it did. The endpoint, the terminus of the boom tube was inside the intruding Primes' vessel. That vessel immediately lifted off, accelerating into the upper atmosphere at a velocity that would have too fast to register on Earthly instruments. Angling out towards the way they'd come.

**{{My Lord! The outsider ship…it's taking off unauthorized!}}**

_**{{Are the Primes on that ship?}}**_

**{{A moment, my Lord.}} **The Thinker ran his scans. **{{They are not in their assigned room, and I am picking up two life-form readings on the fleeing ship.}}**

The Osirus made a decision. _**{{Shoot it down.}}**_ Groundside and orbital weaponry targeted the _Searcher,_ locking on and sending wave after wave of quantum destruction at the fleeing ship. The _Searcher_ dodged, zigged, and zagged, but bracketing fire caught before it before it could reach the point to where it could activate its star drive. In a violent flash of light, the small ship and all within was dissociated into its component particles.

…..

Titans' Tower: Blackfire was in the room she shared with Athena, trying to read. She'd been trying to distract herself in some way ever since Athena had left: video games, television, internet…all for nothing. Finally, she just settled down to read, thankful that she could read the local language. The Tameranean ability to absorb languages during kissing didn't include the _written _version of said language; you still had to get that the hard way.

To say she was worried about Athena would have been an understatement of considerable proportions. Her friend-no, make that her _lover_-was venturing into perhaps the most dangerous territory Blackfire had ever heard of, short of Trigon's hell, where beings like the one who'd taken advantage of her so many years ago reigned supreme. Blackfire guessed she could imagine a worse situation, but it would take some effort.

So right now, she was doing something, anything, to take her mind off her fears. The magazine she was reading sported a cover promising "Hot sexual positions to maximize your pleasure!" Seemed like most American magazines these days had advice to give on such matters. Blackfire was scanning the article. Yeah, as she figured, it would take some…adaptation to make it work for her and Athena.

There was a soft noise outside the door.

Immediately, every sense alert, Blackfire put down the magazine (quietly, though she didn't know why), and got to her feet. Went to the door.

There was a box at the door, just outside, just like before. She picked it up and carried it back into the room. Just as before, no return address, and no specific name. Just "Titans' Tower, Room 2111B."

By now, both she and Athena knew there'd be no booby traps. No, whatever this was, whoever it was from, was much, much more subtle than that. She tore the box open, finding the usual golden rose with its accompanying crystal stand; these she set aside to join the others. What interested her was the note in the box.

_You cannot trust him._

_She is in danger._

_Your Secret Admirer,_

And below that, was the squiggly symbol Raven had told them was the symbol for Asmodeus.

Blackfire didn't waste a moment. It was late, but she nonetheless took the box, its contents, including the rose and vase, and immediately went to Raven's room. "Raven? It's me, Blackfire. Gotta minute?"

A sleepy Raven opened the door. "I gather this couldn't wait?" She'd already gone to bed. Blackfire dared a peek over her shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hank in there, too, but no such luck. Raven was alone. _That needs to change. This girl really needs to get laid, and soon. _She had no doubt it'd do wonders for Raven's disposition."I don't think it can. Here. Let me show you the latest 'special delivery."

A few minutes later, Raven, seated on her bed, was pouring over the note. She shook her head. "Cryptic, as always. This barely conveys any useful information."

"Unless, of course, it does," said Blackfire.

"What do you mean?"

"Look at the first line: _He cannot be trusted._ Then the second right below it: _She is in danger._ It's true, taken separately; they don't seem to add up. But together? Raven, I have a strong hunch—I know I've no data to back it up with—but a strong hunch that if this box had landed outside _your_ door, that second line would read, _You are in danger."_

Raven's eyes widened. "You think _I'm_ the 'she' in this message?"

"I think it's a strong possibility. And, if so, then we can make an educated guess as to who the 'he' is, can't we?"

"The Entity." Raven sat and mulled that one over a bit. If Blackfire's interpretation of this was accurate—_if_ it was—then someone was telling her to be on her guard against a universe straddling being who could swallow her whole anytime he wished.

Exactly what she could do about a thing like that was…less than clear.

But then she shook her head. "Blackfire, even if this is the unvarnished truth—and we've seen nothing to indicate that it is—it's still too vague to plan for."

Blackfire stood, arms crossed over her chest. Raven couldn't help but note the difference between Blackfire and her sister: Kory was always bubbly and cheerful, even in the midst of battle, whereas Komi seemed to be taking the matter much more seriously. "I agree, we can't really extrapolate a lot from this. Except that the 'she' mentioned in there is in danger, from what, we don't know.

"I believe that 'she' to be you, Raven. You're our leader. It would make sense for any enemy to strike at you first, leaving the rest of us directionless. Even if someone like Cyborg stepped up, there'd still be a little time lapse in there, when the group would be doing the headless chicken dance." She shrugged. "It's good tactics. Surgical strike, take out the leader or leaders, mop up the rest." Another shrug. "Believe me, I should know. Supervillain 101.

"And we can sorta assume another very real possibility: the very fact that we received this warning indicates—to me—that it may not be the Entity who's mentioned as the 'he' in the note."

"_Not_ the Entity?" Raven wanted to believe that. "Why do you say that?"

"It's a warning. Basically, it's telling us you—okay, someone—is in danger, and that we should take precautions. But what kind of precautions could we take against the Entity? There's not much we can do about him. So it could be referring to a somewhat more mundane adversary." She drew a deep breath. This next wouldn't be easy to say. "And the first line: 'you cannot trust him,' may be referring to somebody we already do trust, or sort of trust, but maybe shouldn't."

Raven was silent for a long time. "So. You think that first line…might've been referring to one of our own? A turncoat within our own ranks?"

Blackfire looked grim. "It's possible, Raven. Of course," seeing the sorceresses' expression, "keep in mind, this message may be nothing more than someone's idea of a joke. Or, or deliberate misinformation, to actually _get_ us to distrust one another. To sow the seeds of division where there maybe aren't any to begin with. But either way…maybe we should take some extra security measures around you."

"Around me?"

"Well, yeah! Even if the message is totally bogus—and in the past they haven't been, remember—we still need to see about some safety precautions for you. Yes, I know," she said, forestalling Raven's protest, "you're one of the most powerful sorcerers on Earth. But a bomb would still leave you just as dead as anybody. Nobody needs that. So maybe just some sensible precautions?"

"I….well, I guess I see your point.

"So…here's my thought. Kitten and I will take turns guarding you. Not too close; I know you like your privacy, and you need it anyway, but we need to be on standby. And when Athena gets back," _if she does. Gulp. No. When she does._ "When Athena gets back, she'll join in, and we'll take shifts. Because the note said 'he cannot be trusted.' So it has to be a male we're talking about."

"Blackfire, that…that seems a trifle…severe, and all over an unverified source."

Blackfire leaned forward, gazing at the sorceress intently. "Raven. I know it seems drastic, but have you given any thought about what would happen if you, say, stopped a bullet with your head?" Raven shook her head, eyes wide. "I can tell you. Chaos. There are other Titan cells out there, but they all acknowledge you as the overall leader. I can easily see somebody like, say, Speedy, trying to claim the title, Red Star or Aqualad challenging him, Cyborg trying to hold things together…it'd be a free-for-all.

"And right _then's_ when the Brain and his Brotherhood would start some trouble. With no clear leader, the matter would probably go all the way to the Justice League. Why, they might even _disband_ the Titans! Oh, yes! It could happen!

"So you're important. We need you. Don't forget that. And even if you _weren't _our friend, and we don't want you dead, there's still this: you're our main contact for both the Orb and the Entity. You're literally the linch-pin for our whole cosmic circle."

"Oh, come on…."

"I'm serious! Yeah, somebody might step up, but is that the way to bet? What's the Earth expression? 'Better safe than sorry'?

"So I'm gonna get with Kitten and draw up some schedules. Nothing invasive," she said, raising her hands to forestall Raven's protest, "Just kinda being handy. As you say, we really don't have anything to go on. So not-quite bodyguards, just…being more available than we have been. Previously. "

"Well, alright, but…"

"And there's some of the guys we can probably trust. Cyborg. Beast Boy, I think I'd trust him totally. Omega. Don't know about Robin, he'd have his own agenda, I'm sure. But…." She trailed off.

"I notice you didn't add Hank in there."

Blackfire sighed, and knelt on the floor, a habit she'd picked up from Athena. "Your personal life is none of my concern, Raven. You'll have to decide for yourself if Hank is totally trustworthy or not. I just…hope you don't make that decision based on…insufficient information."

Raven smiled, slightly. "Hormones, you mean. I get the picture." Then she sobered. "Alright, Blackfire. I'll…take precautions. Okay? Now. Have you heard anything from Athena?"

…

Across hypertime: Gwen and Terry were still perusing the disks that Terry's mother had left behind. "Terry, we may need to get these to someone who knows more about them than we do. The Titans have people…Batman, Superman…they have the capability to go through this data better than we can."

"We will, Gwen. But remember what my father said: somewhere in all these disks is, or should be, information on how to locate my mother. Not to mention information on how to reproduce the experiment that gave Bree and me our powers." He paused, a look coming over his face. "Gwen? You don't suppose…that my mother was…I don't know how to put it…_affected_, maybe? By this very phenomenon she was researching? The gamma ray laser? If it _did_ carry information on how to build new genetic matter…I mean, do you think?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, Terry. I guess it's _possible._ I mean, scientists have speculated that cosmic radiation may have played a part in the natural selection process, inducing mutations, some of which proved viable. But if said radiation was _deliberately_ designed to produce evolved or enhanced life forms…I mean, I could see it. Sorta." She smiled and came over and sat in his lap. "But if so, that means _you,_ lover, are part alien. And a star child, to boot. How awesome is that?" She mussed his hair up, kissing him.

He kissed her back. "I've never really felt at home here, on Earth, not totally. That is, until I met you. Always put it down to being exiled from Markovia, though." He kissed her again. She kissed him back… "Uh, I think we're losing our focus, here."

She smiled naughtily. "Yeah. Which bedroom are we assigned to tonight? We might wanna get an early start…."

…

A small cave not far away: Omega looked out over the countryside, scanning it with all his senses. Athena joined him. "So. Any idea where we are?"

"I believe so. This is Earth, an Earth, of course, not ours. But…" And here his gaze focused on a spot on the horizon, "…not one with which we are totally unfamiliar, either. This is Gwen's universe. I can see her and Terry at the castle in Markovia. I don't know all about what's going on, but I can only surmise that his exile has been reversed, for some reason."

Athena smiled. "So we have at least one friend here. Should we go say hello?"

"Possibly." He glanced behind him, in the darkness of the cave. "The safety of the crystal is, however, paramount. We'll need to come up with some very good safeguards…."

She shrugged. "Bury it under a few tons of rock and earth. That would keep most people from it."

"I am still uneasy about leaving it at all, Athena. We do need it desperately."

She halfway turned to him. "Omega. I'm curious about something."

"Ask."

"Why didn't we just simply wait for the Osirus' judgment? Why all this, as the humans say, 'cloak and dagger' stuff?"

Omega was silent for a moment. Athena took note that he was choosing to communicate mostly by voice, rather than through Link. She thought she knew why. "I saw his judgment in his mind when we communicated, Athena. So did you, but he distracted you.

"Yes, the Osirans would be perfectly happy to help us save our universe. But the cost would have been…our freedom. Earth would have had to have become a vassal state to Osira. It's the way they operate."

"You don't _know_ that."

"But I do know that. I know the Osirus, Athena. And I know one very important thing about him: he's an Osiran. And the only thing Osirans respect is power. The _only _thing."

Silence. Then, "Omega. _You_ are an Osiran."

Now he turned fully to her, looked her in the eyes. "Yes, Athena, I am." And he let the words linger there in the air between them, the unspoken words he didn't say, but that she understood altogether too well: _And the only thing I respect is power, too._

_To be continued…_


	15. Chapter 15: Attacks

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: Attacks

…..

_Sorry for the delay, but I've had computer problems of late. I hope this posting makes up for it. Thank you for reading, and please don't forget to review!_

_I don't own the Teen Titans._

_The Crimson is used with permission from Walkerjordan963. Thank you, Jordan!_

_An excellent portrait of Gwendolyn Markov can be found on Deviantart, as "Beast Girl," drawn by the very talented Nancy171112. Look her up! Is there anything cuter?_

…

Attacks

Our universe: in a small cavern in the Ural mountains, Mirissa stood in front of the sourceless crimson flame. On the ground between them lay an ancient book. There was complete silence, both physical and telepathic, in the cave; a silence occasionally broken by the rustling of the antediluvian pages as they turned under no visible hand.

_Hm. You are sure this is the correct book?_

"Yes, Master. I myself witnessed the Bleak witch bring Malchior forth from the pages of this very book."

_The book being a curse and a trap, when he was released, any and all mention of him was of course removed as well. But I had hoped there would be some left. Just enough…but it evidently is not to be. No matter. This calls for what the mortals have taken to calling "Plan B."_

"Yes, Master?" The Ice Sorceress looked up eagerly. The Master's "Plan B's" were often entertaining.

_But first I need something. Go find me a body._

Puzzled. "A body, my lord?"

_Yes, a body. Still living, breathing, and in reasonably good shape. But mindless. I need a body with no mind._

Mirissa thought, a finger held against pursed lips. "That…may not be all that difficult, with modern medical technomancy. A coma victim would suffice, would it not?"

_Perhaps. It's important that the body have no mind, so perhaps a stroke victim…one suffering extensive brain damage. And the body itself…can be altered or repaired, if need be. Sex doesn't matter._

_Go bring me such a body. Do it now._

"Yes, Master. As always, I hear and obey." And Mirissa got to her feet and disappeared in a flare of purple light.

Far away, in the North American continent, the charge nurse at the long-term care unit of St. Columbus Hospital was about to turn in for the night. But first…

The room on the farthest end of the hallway housed a most unfortunate patient. A rather young man, no more than twenty-five, a victim of a massive cerebral aneurysm. The nurse herself didn't believe in "pulling the plug" on anyone, but if there was ever a case for it, it was this young man.

He'd been found at his home, alone. There had been no indication of drugs, or foul play, and he'd had no history of hypertension. Just one of those times when the universe just seemed to take a giant, industrial-sized dump on some undeserving soul's head.

So now he was tied into a massive life-support network, pending the decision of his family. Machines did his breathing, saw to his nutrition and hydration…and all the while, he gazed up at the ceiling from eyes that led to nothing. He'd been flatlined, ever since they'd brought him in.

Part of her job was to make sure he was "okay," at least, as okay as he could be, considering. So she stuck her head in his door—and was startled to see a tall woman with long brown hair, highlighted down both sides, and wearing a purple form-hugging, floor length gown standing by his bed, looking at her patient, speculatively. "Uh, Miss?"

The woman seemed not to notice her at all. "Yes," she whispered, smiling, her hand caressing the patient's face tenderly, "yes, you'll do nicely." Then she gestured…

The nurse was sent reeling back by a strangely blinding purple flash. A wave of frigid air washed over her, giving her goose bumps. Alarmed, she grabbed the side rails of the wall she'd fallen up against, and peered back into the room, preparing to call security, to announce an intruder alert….

…But the room was empty.

Back at the cavern: the nameless patient's body lay on the ground between Mirissa and the altar from whence the crimson flame of Mirissa's master appeared to emerge. _Yes. This one should do nicely._ The book, the ancient cursed tome that had once imprisoned Malchior, was still open, and open to a certain page. _Move back, Mirissa, and observe: today you will see true power at work!_

The crimson flame flowed over the book, touching on certain pages, rifling through them, turning back to others, as though seeking bits and pieces of information…

…and finding them.

Around the body, a pentagram formed, apparently flowing out of thin air, crystallizing into increasingly-complex lines of crimson light, with strange symbols at each point. The lines brightened, stabilized, and filled the gloom of the cavern with a reddish glow.

The flame-that-was-more-than-a–flame now flowed over the comatose body before it. That body only had literally seconds to live, as its own respiratory functions had ceased with the aneurysm.

The flame moved back and forth over the body, almost as though washing it, somehow. A closer view would have shown subtle changes taking place, in the lines and appearance of the face and body, the tone of the skin. And then the body…twitched.

It twitched, spasmed, coughed…and the eyes, which had been open, now truly opened, with recognition. "What…where am I?" Another rasping cough, from a throat dry for far too long.

The flame withdrew, and Mirissa stepped closer, offering the now-revived being her hand. "You are safe. Here, let me help you up." And she drew him to his feet.

He was unsteady, not used to using muscles that had so long lain dormant. But the Crimson's power had worked to renew and repair such damage and lack of muscle tone. But all that was a very, very minor thing indeed compared to what it had done inside the man's skull.

_Yes, you are safe. You are with friends. We learned of your plight, and brought you here, to heal you. I believe you have some unfinished business…._

…_.Rorek._

The sorcerer known to men and others as Rorek of Nol, the Dragonsbane, looked up in surprise, upon hearing his name.

…

The Coronation: the ceremony itself had been a media event, made all the more so by the royal couple's expressed decision to renew their vows immediately after. Gwen sighed, standing by her husband as he greeted one high-level official after another. She had to admit, he did cut quite a figure, in his tailored uniform, crown on his head, seated in the golden throne of his fathers. She, herself, and at her insistence, was attired in a somewhat customized version of her old purple and black Doom Patrol jumpsuit. She grimaced, remembering the conversations—a couple bordering on arguments-she'd had with the palace clothiers: she wasn't about to go all "Princess Di" on anyone. It just wasn't her.

She was also getting really tired of LED flashbulbs going off in her face. Evidently, she'd become an overnight celebrity, too. She and Terry had had to limit the paparazzi to a chosen few, the better to be able to officially authorize which photos were to be released, but of course, it was much harder to limit those with cell phones. Gwen had resigned herself to have a few less-than-flattering images of her appear on the internet. Not that she was particularly vain, but some people seemed to delight in making one look as goofy as possible. Sometimes, if she caught them in time, she'd help them out, sticking her tongue out at the camera. _Those_ photos would probably go viral. But she'd restrained herself; she hadn't given anyone the middle finger. Yet.

But a couple of times, it had been a powerful temptation.

"Your Highness." Prime Minister Petrowski approached the throne. Gwen could already feel the temperature drop slightly, as Terry coldly acknowledged the man who'd insulted his wife. "My congratulations upon your coronation. May your reign be a long one, and untroubled."

"Thank you, Mr. Prime Minister," Terry said by way of dismissal. He still had not forgotten nor forgiven Petrowski's "accidently" referring to the love of his life as a "whatever." He knew he'd have to take steps, political steps, regarding that, and soon. Now that he was king….

"If I'm not mistaken, the wedding ceremony is to be held in the chapel? And within the hour?" In spite of the press in the large room, the three of them had, at least momentarily, a very brief moment of relative privacy.

"It is." Tight lipped. Maybe he'd get the message.

"And I note that I am not invited. That is understandable, given…certain things. So, as this will be my last time today to see you, Your Highness, might I offer a word or two of advice?"

"You may speak." Both Gwen and Terry were listening, as was Dmitri, from a short distance away, attired in a business suit especially tailored to conceal the Uzi he was carrying.

"I do sincerely hope that my wedding gift will make up for any past mistakes on my part." He spread his hands. "We all misspeak, occasionally. As I'm sure Your Highness knows.

"But what I would like to say, in this brief time, is simply this: not everything is as it appears at first. And the longer a secret is held, the more dangerous it has the potential of being."

Now Terry leaned forward, looking at the Prime Minister through narrowed eyes. "Would you, by any chance, care to elaborate on that, Mr. Petrowski?"

"Not at this time. And now, I believe it's time for you and the Lady Gwendolyn to prepare for your renewal of your vows." And with that, he bowed again, and left, leaving both Terry and Gwen to stare at his receding back, as he left the room.

The chapel, one that had served the Markovian kings since the time of the Crusades. It had been remodeled, restored, and rebuilt since then, but the architects had been given strict orders to maintain it overall ambience.

Gwen and Terry looked around in awe. This was their first time actually seeing the inside of the "chapel," which was really more cathedral than chapel. Still, Gwen guessed it probably didn't compare with some of Europe's larger cathedrals.

But it was certainly bigger than either of them had expected. "Terry? You've never been here before?"

He shook his head. "Only once, a long time ago. There's an area in the palace marked out specifically for religious use by the royal family, and, to be frank, father was always somewhat insular. Didn't trust crowds that much. Or else just didn't like them. Any worship service—any _real_ worship service, I mean, was conducted there. This," he gestured around him at the vaulted, peaked roof, the stained glass windows, the row upon row of gilt-edged pews, "was more for ceremonies of state, rather than actual use, to be honest. I don't recall anyone ever conducting any sort of regular services here." To save time, and to keep everybody from having to walk yet some more, the palace baker had brought in the wedding cake, which now waited, over in a corner by a table. The "reception" could then take place as soon as the vows were properly exchanged, and everybody could get on with their business. Hardly according to protocol, everyone admitted, but it was all a formality, anyway.

The crowd from the coronation had followed them into the chapel, and now took their seats. Gwen and Terry stood before the priest, hand in hand, there really being no point in the whole going-down-the-aisle procedure. The proper words were spoken, Terry replaced the ring on Gwen's finger, and the couple kissed, while flashbulbs went off.

Gwen's better-than-human sense of hearing picked up snatches of conversation throughout the room. Most of it was in the language of Markovia, or a related language, which she didn't yet understand, but a good deal of it was in English.

"…_do make a cute couple…"_

"…_remember this moment, Andre, you're seeing history made here…"_

"…_so cute. That green skin is so cool looking…"_

"…_.love the ears…"_

"…_sigh…our new king and his queen…"_

"…_wish he'd look at __me__ like that…"_

And then she heard something else, something Robin had trained her to recognize, something that made her skin prickle. "Terry? Love?" She was still nuzzled up against him. "Don't let on, but let's get everybody out of here as quickly and quietly as possible, okay?"

Instantly he tensed, holding her against him. "Why?" he whispered into her ear.

"Because there's a bomb in this room somewhere."

….

Our universe: deep within the Rocky Mountains: Terra had to admit it, Gizmo had wrought wonders.

The technology that had been cached down here (that nobody knew about, she reminded herself; she didn't think even Slade himself had any inkling of its existence) was hopelessly outdated. Much of Gizmo's time had been spent re-doing many systems that had probably been state of the art in their day, but were now museum-grade.

But now, he sat, exhausted, over by one wall, eyes closed. Terra made a note to get Angelique to watch out for him, not let him drive himself the way he had. But she had to admit: that might be easier said than done.

She came over and sat by him. "You okay?"

For a moment he didn't answer. Then, "Yeah. Just…just tired, is all."

"I'm not trying to sound like your mother, Gizmo, but you need to take better care of yourself. I mean, you've worked nonstop for days now. When did you eat last?"

"Uh….what day is it?"

She slapped him on the knee. "C'mon up. I'll make stroganoff tonight."

He shook his head, wearily. "Can't. They might be here anytime now. Any _second._" He paused, tilted his head back. "But I've pretty much done all I can do with what I've got. I need Rodney."

"Rodney? Who's that?"

"Control Freak. I need him if I'm to get any further along."

"_Control Freak?_ What'chu need _him_ for?"

"Get a clue. The guy's not just a genius; he's actually a, a technomancer, I guess you'd say. That's how he can build those things, like that remote. It's actually closer related to magic than science. I can't duplicate it. But he can do…wonders with just about any technology you care to throw at him."

"What, exactly, do you need him to do?"

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was getting dark circles under them, Terra noticed. "Angelique's told me about her people, the Kindred. They might be able to help, too. But what I need Rodney for, is to start developing tech that's non-quantum based."

"Non-quantum?"

"Yeah. Everything we use, whether it's matter or energy, is still based on quanta, discreet packets of energy. If I'm right, and I hope I'm not, what's out there is something that eats, or otherwise somehow absorbs, quanta. Any kind of quanta. So any defense or weaponry we have is basically food to it, or them. Like building a castle wall out of McDonald's hamburgers. Wouldn't stop much, would it? In fact, it would probably attract 'em. We have to develop gadgets, weapons, force-fields, based on non-quantum principles, otherwise, all we're doing is setting the dinner table." And right on cue, his stomach growled.

Terra grinned. "Sounds like someone else needs a dinner table. C'mon, Giz. We'll talk to Raven about it, and yeah, bring in the Kindred, too."

….

"A bomb? Are you sure?" Terry whispered, in Gwen's ear. He still hadn't moved from his clinch with her, but she could almost _feel_ his skin turn pale. A bomb going off in this crowded cathedral…

"Yeah," she whispered back. "Even in human form, I've got pretty sharp senses. I learned, long ago, to recognize the faint sound of a digital countdown timer. Yeah, it _could_ be set to just take a picture, but…."

"…But in light of all that's happened, that's not likely. I see. Well, here goes my first act as king. Hope my ancestors will forgive me." He turned to the congregation, smiling. "Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of Markovia! This is a day for celebration! There's a pub right across the street from us…drinks are on the house!"

Exactly five minutes and fifteen seconds later, Gwen, Terry, and Dmitri were left standing in an empty cathedral. "I'm impressed," grunted Dmitri, "Never have I seen such a crowd dispersed so quickly yet orderly."

Terry shrugged. "What can I say? We Markovians appreciate a fine _liqueur. _Especially after services. Now. Dmitri, I know you've already summoned the bomb squad…Gwen, can you pinpoint the source of the sound? Even a little?

She looked up. "It seems to be coming from up there, maybe the arches or something." A mystified expression crossed her face. "Odd place for a bomb."

"Indeed," affirmed Dmitri. "Normally, bombs get placed at or close to ground level, take out bystanders." By now, the bomb squad had filed in, and the royal couple had been ushered out. As she was going out the door, Gwen sniffed, detecting a very faint, very subtle scent. "Dmitri? While we're at it…have somebody check the cake, would you?"

Two hours later: a very grim looking Chancellor Butusov was reporting to the pair. "You were absolutely correct, Your Highness, on both counts. There indeed was a bomb in the rafters of the church, and, as you say, that was a somewhat unlikely place for one. But it was a most unusual bomb; it seemed," he mulled his thoughts over in his head before speaking, "_underpowered_, if I may say so? I suppose what I'm trying to say it, it wasn't really that big a bomb. And clumsily wired, too. Almost, almost like a half-hearted attempt.

"But the cake, which, thank God in Heaven, nobody tasted, was a very different story. It was laced with the same poison that killed your sister, only stronger."

"So," mused Terry, "two attempts on our lives? And not just us, but anybody who would've eaten any of the cake. By one person or more than one? And I take it you've addressed this matter with the palace bakery staff."

"Of course, Your Highness. We're even now interrogating suspects, but, to be honest, there are no sore thumbs sticking out. All the chefs who worked on the cake were long-time staff; most of them have been here for longer than either of you have been alive. So far, each and every one has expressed shock and outrage over the incident—after all, had matters proceeded as they normally would, we could easily be looking at a body count numbering in….I don't even like to think about the numbers. But they've no better explanations than we do.

"As for the bomb…it would have taken someone on a rather large and obvious scaffold of some sort to place it where it was placed. I checked the palace grounds and maintenance records: no such scaffolds were unaccounted for at any time. And perhaps I was understating the case when I described it as 'half-hearted.' It was definitely a bomb, of sufficient size to, to do the job."

Terry nodded. They had returned to the couple's suite in the castle, the one they were going to be using that night, and they were both still getting used to the notion of having to move their essentials every couple of days. Still, these attempts did seem to indicate that there was certainly merit in staying on their guard…"I suppose that will be all, for now, old friend. If you don't mind, I'd like to place a secure long-distance call."

"Certainly, Your Grace." Butusov bowed and backed out of the room.

Gwen came over and sat by Terry. "You think we need to inform Ray about all this?"

"I _know_ we need to. Neither of us was being paranoid after all, it seems, and he needs to know. Besides, you know he's worried sick about you."

She twirled his blond hair. "He cares about you, too, you know. He just has a hard time showing it."

"It's alright, honey. I know you and he share a special bond. You don't need to apologize for that." He booted up the computer terminal.

She brought her chin up. "Wasn't _apologizing_ for nothin', Mr. I'm-the-King-of-My-Own-Country. Just tellin' you. With Ray, you gotta look beneath the surface, 'cos he sure won't show you."

He grinned at her. "But you can't deny you've always had a special insight into that area below the surface, where he doesn't usually allow anyone. That's all the more reason to keep him informed about all these events."

The screen crackled, and the Ray's image stabilized on it. _"Hello, the two of you. I just witnessed the coronation on CNN. And there were some bootlegs of the vow renewal service at the cathedral on Youtube. I believe congratulations are in order."_

"Thanks, Ray, but I should also tell you, it looks like those suspicions we all had…have a certain degree of merit." Terry drew a breath, and proceeded to recount the recent attempts on their lives.

There was a brief moment of silence from the other end. Only Gwen noticed the ever-so-slight tightening of the lips on her friend's face. Only Gwen knew how angry the tall sorcerer must be, even to let a gesture as small as that slip out of his iron control. The last time she'd seen that particular expression on his face, he'd been two minutes, thirty seconds away from ripping a mountain in half.

Then, "I see. Then our preparations were not needless. Have you a suspect?"

"No." Gwen thought Terry answered that a bit quicker than he might normally would have, and she heartily agreed. An angry demon sorcerer of Ray's caliber was something the planet as a whole didn't need right then. And it probably wouldn't be a good idea to let him know about Prime Minister Petrowski's remark.

On a mountainside, far away: the two Osirans watched the whole drama unfold. Saw the threat of the bomb and the poisoned cake. **{{Should we help?}}** asked Athena. She hoped, she really hoped he'd answer by Link.

**{{Of course. But first, we must see to the safety of the crystal. Our very universe's life depends on it. I understand that these are our friends, and we will help them, but we must make sure of that first.}}**

In the most private part of her mind, Athena did what she'd heard humans call, "breathing a sigh of relief." Omega's growing tendency to use voice communication rather than the much more efficient Link was beginning to worry her. **{{Well, one thing we can do is place it in a stasis field.}}** She looked back into the interior of the cave they'd found themselves in, after a desperate boom tube had taken them from the vibrational universe of New Osira and deposited them here.

"Here" wasn't their acknowledged home universe, but it was closer.

**{{We'll do that. Now. Let us plan on how best to "introduce" ourselves to those here who know us, and also plan how we can help them most effectively. Right now, our biggest advantage is anonymity. How best can we leverage that?}}**

….

Our universe: Raven was busy reading the Entity's book. It was a bit of a chore, mostly because there was simply so much of it.

The language had been a problem at first, but the Entity had gifted her with the ability to decipher it, even as it had back on Jasson's home world, what seemed like a lifetime ago. But it also appeared to involve a great deal of what seemed to be technical terms that Raven was having a hard time wrapping her brain around. Even with all she'd learned from the Osirans, her friends back in that other world, and all she'd picked up here from Omega and Athena, a lot of it she was having to take in context. And a lot of it just didn't make sense to her.

If she was reading this correctly, the Entity had begun as a mortal being, possibly even humanoid. But (something, something) had (something'd), and he'd (she'd? The text was a bit unclear about that) sought a kind of transcendence, seeking a way to end (something, something), and, as time had transpired, so, too, its goals had evolved.

What had started out as a means of saving its universe (and presumably its people in that universe) had become a crusade to, to…remake all Creation, it seemed. And that was the hard part. Because it wasn't alone. Or the first.

Try as she might, Raven couldn't decipher very much about the Entity's Adversary, except that he, she, or it was immensely powerful, and seemed to have what Hank termed the "home field advantage": evidently, the Entity's Adversary was _yin_ to its _yang,_ but a much larger_ yin._

And so the War had begun.

Back on Jasson's world, the Entity had told Raven he was fighting a war on a scale she couldn't even imagine. She had thought that to be a bit condescending, but it was typical of the Entity, after all. Now she was beginning to wonder if perhaps the Entity hadn't been speaking a bit conservatively there.

A war in which whole universes were the prizes? A war between two beings of such a scale as to actually utilize universes the way Earthly organisms did cells in their bodies? Calling such beings "Godlike" was actually understating the case.

She read and re-read the passages again and again. She couldn't shake the notion that there was something she was missing, something important…

And, perhaps most importantly of all, at least right now, just what was _her_ role in all this? Or, for that matter, _any_ of their roles? How could they, mortal beings, possibly make a difference? For that matter, most _im_mortal beings would be as gnats to these two.

Raven closed the book and sat up, assuming the lotus position. She needed more information, and she knew only one way of getting it. Casting her thoughts out into the ether, she sought out one particular, familiar person…._{{Missy? Are you there?}}_ There was a pause, and she waited. Then, _{{Missy? Can you hear me?}}_ She knew the little girl known as "Missy" had been adopted, in a manner of speaking, by Typhon, the emissary of the Entity's Adversary. He'd once tried to kill Raven, to keep her from seeking out dangerous knowledge. If it hadn't been for Missy's intervention, and the Entity's coming to her aid, she'd be extremely dead now.

But she knew better than to base her actions on only one source of information. Maybe she had issues with contacting Typhon directly, but perhaps….

_{{Yes, Miss Raven?}}_ She recognized Missy's mental "voice."

_{{Missy, I need to know a few things. Could you come here, to my room, please?}}_

_{{I guess so.}}_ She could sense the child's trepidation. Missy had gained a lot from her association with Typhon. One thing she'd learned how to do was to control her body to switch from matter to energy and back again, and even to control available energy, to a degree. But for all that power, she was still a child, and, essentially, Typhon's "ward." And Typhon might not appreciate her associating with people whom he seemed to identify with his Enemy.

_{{It won't cause you any problems, will it?}}_ Missy, who'd taken to calling herself "Ghost," had taken a huge leap of independence when she'd gone out of her way to warn Raven about Typhon's impending attack, and Raven frankly wasn't sure what that might have done to her relationship with Typhon. Missy had never actually said.

And, Raven thought, a bit shamefacedly, they had never actually asked.

_{{No, Miss Raven. I'll be right there.}}_ There was a flash of light, and, when the glare cleared, there stood a little brown haired girl wearing a nondescript gray hoodie and ill-fitting jeans. Of course, in a sense, that was illusion; the clothes were the products of Missy's own imagination, woven, as they were, from energy. She could've been wearing anything she could imagine, but appeared most comfortable in the street clothes she'd worn when Typhon had found her, living homeless in an alleyway. "Missy, I need to know some things."

"What sort of things?"

Raven sighed. This was gonna take a while. "What do you know about the Entity, the being Mr. Typhon is here to fight?"

"Only that Mr. Typhon says he's really bad." The girl hesitated, biting her lip. "I mean, I haven't heard many details, but Mr. Typhon thinks he just absorbs everybody into himself."

"Missy….I'm trying to figure out who the 'good guys' are here. But they both seem to be good in their own ways, not so good in others.

"You remember a while back when the Entity and Mr. Typhon fought? I'd like to avoid that, if possible. They didn't fight long, but they certainly fought _hard._ What, really, were they fighting over? What set them off? And what can we do to keep that from happening?"

Missy thought, and thought hard. She settled into a cross-legged position on the floor of Raven's room, and thought some more. "Honestly? Mr. Typhon hasn't really discussed it with me, not directly, I mean, but I get the impression that what he wants to do is protect humanity from being, y'know, sucked in. I mean, there's no other term. He sees the Entity as a kind of, of cosmic predator, just waiting to pounce. He wants to preserve human beings' ability to choose, whether right or wrong."

"So what he really seeks to preserve is humanity's individuality. Am I right?"

Missy shrugged. The girl she had been would have been flabbergasted by all the "big words," but, ever since her "adoption" by the cosmic entity known as Typhon, she'd had direct access to knowledge and information on a literally cosmic scale, just by merging with his ship/self, the _Starheart._ "That's what I understand. Of course, he keeps telling me it's more complicated than that, but…."

"It always is," sighed Raven, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Truth is, Missy, I don't feel comfortable talking to him directly, especially since he tried to kill me, but I need to get both sides of the story. Do you understand?"

Missy cocked her head at Raven. "Of course, Miss Raven. I understa-*" And just at that very moment, the entire tower rocked as though someone had set off a bomb on the roof. "Miss Raven! What-*"

But Raven's supernatural senses were already in high gear. This was no bomb attack. She instantly recognized the energy signature of a magical assault. "Missy, quickly, summon the others, and get to safety." Her lips thinned in determination. "We've a visitor."

…

Across hypertime: the assassin moved through the hallways of Castle Markovia with the calm confidence of one who knows exactly where he's going. He did. Nor was he overly worried about being spotted; the movements of the palace staff were of course known to him.

And his disguise was impeccable.

The royal suite: Gwen and Terry were locked in a steamy embrace when the doorbell chimed. Sighing, they drew apart. "It never fails," grumbled Terry.

"Not true," grinned his bride. "It failed last night. And the night before. And yesterday morn-*"

"An expression of frustration, love of my life." He got up from the bed. "Hold that pose."

Chancellor Butusov stood just outside, with a small covered trolley. "I took the liberty of bringing your meals to you, Your Grace. I, er," and here he faltered, clearly a bit embarrassed, "I notice you and the Lady Gwen often take your meals here in your room." He averted his gaze from the half-undressed Gwen.

"Thank you, Rory. Yes, we'll take our meals here. Tell me, did you see to it that Mr. Petrowski's dismissal is in progress?"

"I did. Though, if you'll permit me to say so, I…question the wisdom of it."

"Why is that?"

"I understand you feel he insulted your wife. There is little doubt of that…but…" Butusov sighed. "May God forgive me if it is not so, but if he was behind the attempt on your lives in the chapel, you've basically put him on notice. And severed our connection with him."

"That was rather the point, old friend. But, if, as you say, he was behind the attempt, it stands to reason that he must be removed from his position of authority, regardless of any personal feelings on my part. And if he was not…there is still the matter of his insult. One cannot publicly insult any nation's queen and expect to go unchastised. It casts doubt over the regime. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I…would. I just remember…" Rory Butusov turned sad eyes downward, "He has been here, in one capacity or another, nearly as long as I have. And…we were personal friends. Perhaps I could have…done something. Said something. I don't know."

Terry looked him in the eye. "Your loyalty does you credit, old friend. But what must be, must be. You have done all that you can." He lifted the cover on the dishes on the tray. "Mm. Blackened tilapia? My favorite. After all these years, you remembered."

"Of course I did, Your Majesty. Not only is it my job, but it's my pleasure." And Butusov gave a short bow, turned, and left.

Dmitri's first indication of trouble was the sharp sting on the back of his neck, and the spreading numbness in his limbs. Some sort of nerve agent, his rapidly fading consciousness told him. He'd been careless, and now he was dead. He just hadn't stopped breathing yet.

_Spetsnaz _training, as well as a stubborn dedication to his duty, took over. Even as he fell, he managed to draw a small but very sharp knife, and, with as steady a hand as he could, drew a deep cut across his left arm….

…

Our universe: Raven levitated through the roof of the Tower to find herself face-to-face with the last person she ever expected to see. "_Rorek?_ Rorek of Nol? What are you doing here?" The last time she'd come across that name, coupled with its attendant illustration, had been in the cursed book that had been stolen from her room. The dragon Malchior had been trapped within its pages by Rorek's own curse; that had been the only way for the warrior wizard to vanquish so powerful a foe.

The grey-cloaked warrior wizard looked at her through eyes filled with righteous fervor. "So you know me. Good. Then you know why I've come, demon!"

"Well, _actually_, I _don't_. I've heard of you…you fought Malchior, bound him to the pages of your book. But…but _you_ were never in there! How can you be here? And _why_ are you here?"

Rorek narrowed his eyes at her, the lower half of his face covered, as was the custom of warrior wizards of his clan. "Your attempts at deception will avail you naught." He raised his hands: light as bright as lightning gathered around them, momentarily dimming the overhead sun. "_**Algernon ex sam hi-yane du mortex!**_" Tendrils of brilliant white light flashed from his palms, entwining themselves around Raven, binding her arms to her side. "Be bound, demoness! Trouble these good people no more!"

"_Trouble?_ What are you—uhg!—talking about?" Raven struggled to free herself from the magical bonds.

"Can you deny the destruction you've caused? I've only been here less than a quarter of your day and I've seen the ruined buildings, the shattered lives! You live in splendor while your subjects cower in their homes!" Thus saying, he unleashed another bolt of magical lightning that tightened the bonds around Raven even further.

"You…you've got it…all wrong…" Raven struggled harder. It was getting hard to breathe…"I'm not 'ruling' anything! _**Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!**_" She gathered her energy, and shattered the bonds. "You've been misinformed!"

Again, he raised his hands, floating in mid-air: "_**Illianor despartum!**_" Again, magical shackles coalesced around Raven, this time binding her mouth closed as well. Rorek floated nearer. He did not wish to harm the girl unnecessarily; her infernal parentage wasn't her fault. Simply imprisoning her within some dark dimension should be enough to free these mortals….

A starbolt hit the left side of his head, rocking him back on his center of balance. "Leave her alone!" Blackfire was zooming in from the side. "Who are you, anyway?"

"What? Has she suborned others, keeping them in her thrall?" Rorek was aghast. This was worse than he'd thought. And even as he thought that, he noticed a red-skinned girl (but a mortal, he noticed, with a very brief, very internal sigh of relief) flying some sort of aerial device headed his way from the other side, readying some object in her hand. He barely got his defenses up in time to block Kitten's freeze ray.

A magical shock wave knocked his foes back, sent them tumbling, even as he began the banishment spell: "_**Interex eternum du sent-***_

A blast of electricity hit him from the left. Who-?

Glancing down, he caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a human girl-child, strangely transparent, who seemed to be summoning up some power from within the "T" shaped stronghold, and directing it at him. He knew a brief moment of rare rage: had the villainess no shame, to suborn even _children_ into her service? How low could she sink? Even Malchior hadn't done anything like that.

The other two were still recovering from his shockwave attack. He directed some carefully shaped energies towards the only partially visible girl….perhaps if he could remove her from the battle, she'd be less under the influence of the malevolent sorceress. At least, it would give him time to do what needed to be done, and matters could be sorted out afterwards…

But his teleportation charge ran into the most incredible energy screen he'd ever imagined. Never had he heard of or even dreamed anything this powerful existed anywhere outside the realm of the High Gods themselves. He could no more push through it than a normal man could push a glacier back. What sorcery was this?

"Stop!" The little girl was yelling up at him. It struck him that she had no idea that some Power was protecting her. "Don't hurt Miss Raven! She hasn't done anything!"

By now, the other two had shaken off the effects of his shockwave attack and were coming at him from both sides. He had to finish this up. As powerful as he was, he could sense the demoness' power as well, and it was not to be scoffed at. He'd taken her by surprise thus far, but she was recovering, and it was only a matter of time until she marshaled her own full strength. Combined with the powers of these other three, plus the indescribable might of whatever he'd sensed protecting the little girl, he doubted he'd have much chance.

His next attack concentrated on confusion rather than raw force, blinding the thralls, sending them reeling back. He couldn't fight them all; he'd have to take this fight elsewhere. Then, when matters were settled, perhaps he could return, see what he could do about restoring their rightful minds to them. If they had any minds of their own left to restore.

Take the demoness and go. His flare attack confused them momentarily, and by the time their eyes cleared, both Raven and her adversary had disappeared.

….

The maid's scream alerted both palace security and the royal couple. Gwen and Terry actually arrived first at the scene of the crime.

Dmitri's cooling body lay on the floor, one leg drawn partially up beneath him, as though he'd tried to run…or charge. Terry knelt by the body of the man who'd been their bodyguard, closing his eyes in loss. "No…" They might not've known Dmitri on any personal level, but he'd been faithful unto death.

And perhaps beyond. Gwen directed Terry's attention to the Russian's right hand. Evidently, whatever had killed him—and they noted the small dart in his neck, no doubt poisoned—had given him enough time for him to try to leave some clue behind as to the identity of his killer. He'd opened a vein in his left arm, and, with his own blood, scrawled a letter in brown, drying marks on the floor.

It was the letter "P."

_To be continued…._


	16. Chapter 16: Assassins

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: Chapter 16: Assassins

….

_Check out Nancy 171112's portrait of "Beast Girl" on Deviantart. That was my inspiration for Gwen Markov. How could you not love a face like that?_

…_.._

Assassins

Our world: Raven came to, still bound tightly in Rorek's magical bonds. A quick glance around confirmed her suspicions: she was at Stonehenge.

The circle of standing stones known to modern humans as Stonehenge was in fact a lot older than any supposed. The Druids had appropriated what was already there, but they had not erected the stones, nor had they woven the magical net of energies that fairly hummed throughout the ancient construct, energies most normal humans couldn't even detect. That had been done at a time preceding even the dinosaurs.

Her mouth was still covered by Rorek's bonds, and she struggled to free at least a part of herself. The bonds were tight, however; Rorek (and how could this be Rorek, anyway?) was no amateur. Overhead, she noticed storm clouds gathering from the south.

He stood by the southeast gateway, hands uplifted, eyes partly closed in concentration. "_**Indominus, Niator, eternum extremis…**_" She recognized the spell of banishment with alarm. On a normal human, it would have had little effect, but Raven was part demon. As such, she was vulnerable to being banished from the mortal realm.

But she could take advantage of this place as well, focusing her will on the ground she was floating over. She could feel the crackling power of the _ley_ lines that converged on this place, power that could be accessed by someone with the knowledge and skill…

She summoned her strength, amplified by the power of this place, and _pushed,_ shoving her bonds out like a balloon filled to bursting. Once her mouth was free, she chanted her own mantra: "_**Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!**_"—redirecting the very bonds Rorek had used on her back upon him.

Caught off-guard, Rorek's building spell faded. But now he turned his full attention to the now-free sorceress. "That will avail you naught, demoness. I, too, can access the power here." Again, he raised his hands, brow furrowing in concentration as he connected with the Earth. "_**Terraneum subitar, exo-***_"

_Whaaam!_ Something slammed into him from behind, and he turned, to face the strangest being he'd yet encountered. The creature, though humanoid, seemed to be mostly metal, or some similar substance, and was in the process of changing shape into something even less human. It was unlike any magic he'd ever heard of.

"_Leave Miss Raven alone!"_ Said a girl's voice, from somewhere within the contraption that was taking shape. With alarm, he noticed the end facing him glowing brightly as the noonday sun. Apparently, this day and age had its own dragonfire.

Hastily, he threw up a shield. Another little human child, he thought, his anger growing. What unholy magic had been wrought upon the child, that she could do _this?_ And to think that he'd actually tried to show the demoness mercy, of a sort.

The creature in front of him morphed back into human shape and looked upwards towards the sky. "Hey, Ghost," she said, a smile on her face, "Looks like rain."

"Gimme a minute." He noticed the semitransparent girl off to one side. How had they found him so quickly?

"Girls, get back!" shouted Raven, "This isn't your fight!"

"No," said another voice, this one man's. "It's ours." Cyborg's sonic cannon struck Rorek's shields with the force of a thunderbolt.

"You _fools!_" shouted Rorek, "I'm trying to save you all! Can't you see how she's _enslaved_ you?" But even as he asked the question, he knew the answer: of course they couldn't. Part of such mental thralldom was that they firmly believed they were acting of their own free will.

By now the one they called "Ghost" had completed whatever process she'd begun, and his eyes widened as he saw the portent: she was drawing down the electrical energy of the storm overhead, obviously intending to channel it into a single beam of destruction. He didn't need three guesses to imagine who the target was to be. Nor could he stop it.

Rorek was powerful, but lightning isn't called the "weapon of the gods" for no reason. He could fight any one or maybe even any two of his foes, but not all of them. And, to complicate matters, the demoness herself was gathering her strength, a not inconsiderable power in itself. A tactical withdrawal was in order.

_There will be another time,_ he vowed silently, even as he rose into the air, summoning a teleport vortex to take him far away from here.

The Titans watched him disappear into the sky. Then Raven spoke to Angelique. "Is the tracking device working?"

"Yes, ma'am. Don't know how long it'll work, though; you know magic tends to short out tech. But yeah, so far, I can track him."

Raven frowned. "I need answers. How did he come to be here? Malchior I could understand; he was bound into the pages of Rorek's spellbook. _But Rorek wasn't_. There is no logical way for him to be here, here and now."

"What do you think, Raven? _Was_ that even Rorek? I mean, couldn't it have been, I dunno, an android or something?" Cyborg rubbed his chin skeptically.

Raven shook her head. "No. No android could work magic, especially magic on that level. Perhaps some form of time-travel…I honestly don't know." She turned from them, activating her own comm. unit. "Blackfire, Devil Cat, report." Kitten and Komi had boom-tubed to yet another ley line convergence point, this one in the Carribean, in case Rorek should try to take her there, to complete his banishment spell.

"_All clear, Raven. No sign of him. Are you alright?"_ Blackfire's concerned voice came over the unit.

"Yes, but this was only round one. It looks like you were right; I seem to have an invisible bull's-eye painted on me. I'll have to look into this more deeply. There's no logical way Rorek could be here, or, if he is, why he should take such an unhealthy interest in me. We'll meet you back at the tower."

….

Deep underneath the Rocky Mountains: "Whoa. So _kewl!_" Control Freak was looking around with eyes the size of a Japanese anime character. He'd been flown here straight from Jump City, and hadn't even had time to change out of his standard grey duster. Not that he would have; it was his trademark.

"Can it, Rod. Eyes back in yer head. You got my message?"

"Yeah." With an effort, Rodney Foster, aka Control Freak, pulled himself back to reality. "Not sure I believe it, though. What did you mean, 'non-quantum weapons'?"

"Just that, doofus. Here." Gizmo got up from underneath the complex machine he was working on, and, _very_ reluctantly, crossed over to a nearby table, sweeping an envelope off it, and tossing it in Control Freak's general direction. "Here. Read this. These are the readings I got a few days ago. Now, you know, if you have a fluctuation in _anything_, it usually means to watch out, 'cos something's goin' or about to go haywire. In a power situation, like electrical lines, that's not that big an issue. But these fluctuations were in _universal constants._ Something made reality blink."

Control Freak read the read-out. "Okay, granted, but…"

"Get a clue already. The electricity blinks, worst case scenario, the power goes out. For a while. But if _reality_ goes out? Who you gonna call to fix _that?_ Not Ghostbusters.

"And remember, we're talking about a potential false-vacuum collapse. That'd be _permanent._ And, _if we're lucky,_ it would happen all at once, everywhere. If we're not…it happens piecemeal, one part of the universe at a time. And while it's happening, something else—something _really_ nasty-decides to pay us a visit."

"These 'quantivores' you mentioned."

"Yeah. Hence the need for _non-quantum tech._ Think you can deliver?"

Control Freak cracked his knuckles, a broad smile on his face. He was in his element. "Is the Pope Catholic?"

….

Across hypertime: the assassin moved through the hallways of Castle Markovia unchallenged. As before, his disguise was flawless.

It wouldn't be much longer now. Soon, soon, vengeance would be his.

There was a knock at the suite where Gwen and Terry were assigned for the night. Sighing, Terry got up from her, an expression of exasperation on his face. "This is getting old. I wonder if we could get a 'Do Not Disturb' sign?"

She smiled up at him, her bare breasts, as always, catching his eye and taking his breath away. "Oh, come on. It's probably Rory with dinner. Though I admit, his timing could be improved upon."

It was Rory Butusov. He reddened when he saw Gwen covering up. "Oh, please forgive me, Your Majesty. I, er, seem to always arrive at an inopportune moment." He had their food tray rolling in front of him, the dishes covered.

"It's alright, old friend." Terry rolled the food cart into the room without lifting the lids. "Did you find out anything about Dmitri's death?"

"Too much. He was apparently hit with a powerful nerve agent, similar to sarin gas, but utilizing a radioactive component: xeronium 371. A highly unstable element found only here in Markovia, and thought to be of meteoritic origin. Highly radioactive. It's a fortunate thing both you and the queen were not exposed to the body for very long. We've…had to inter him in a lead-lined coffin. A very thickly lined coffin."

"Radiation?" Terry turned and looked at Gwen. Ray's spell provided them with some immunity to most poisons, but nobody had thought about a poison based on a radioactive substance. They might very easily prove to be vulnerable to that.

"Yes, Your Highness. But this does help us narrow it down somewhat as to who the killer could be. Not everyone in the political inner circle of the royal court has access to xeronium."

"Hm." Terry rubbed his jaw. "Haven't we pretty much established the killer's identity? Dmitri's last act…that letter than he drew…"

Chancellor Butusov sighed. "Yes, Your Majesty. I know. I…I was hoping some other explanation would turn up, to be honest. But Peter Petrowski was one of the very few who could have acquired some samples of xeronium."

Terry approached the Chancellor, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Rory. Listen to me. Your loyalty to your friend does you credit, but, if our suspicions are correct, he's not the man you knew. I don't know what's happened to him—somehow I can't see him as going through all this simply because he dislikes Gwen—but on the other hand, I can't deny that it's _happening._ Neither can you." He paused. "If he's guilty—and we don't yet know that he is—then don't you think something needs to be done about it? Not only is my sister dead, but Dmitri's blood is upon his hands, too."

Chancellor Butusov looked down in defeat. "I…I know, Your Majesty. I, I just wish…never mind. I'm being foolish. Please, please forgive a foolish old man." And he turned and left, going back down the hall towards his office.

Terry's gaze followed him for a long time. Then, he turned and crossed over the room to where Gwen lay, still topless, sitting down upon the bed beside her. An onlooker might have thought it odd, that neither of them said a single word whatsoever.

Chancellor Butusov was working late when Peter Petrowski walked into his office, carrying a heavy-looking valise. "What? Peter, what are you doing here?" Petrowski's dismissal had become effective two days prior.

"Oh, just cleaning out my desk. Tying up a few loose ends. You know how it goes, Rory." He put the valise on the floor between them, and took a seat facing the Chancellor.

"Indeed I do. I had so hoped it would not come to this. You and I represent the last of the old guard, here at the castle. I hate to see you go.

"Why did you do it, Peter? It was a _public insult._ Did you truly think our new king was going to just take that lying down? You see how much in love they are. So why? You destroyed your own career!"

Petrowski waved off the question. "Water under the bridge, Rory. But I came here to ask you the same question."

Puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Oh come on, Rory. You and I both know who poisoned the Lady Brianna, and who was behind the poisoned wedding cake. In order for either to take place, the person responsible would have to have unlimited access to the royal family.

"And Dmitri. That was a short-range dart that hit him, and a powerful nerve agent on it. It had to be fresh. It could only have been fired, with any degree of accuracy, from a few mere feet away. There aren't that many people Dmitri would have let get that close to him for that very reason.

"But the common denominator in all these cases has been you. Only you have had unlimited access to the royal family; only you could have slipped the poison into the cake without anyone being the wiser. And only you—Dmitri's employer—would have had a chance of getting that close to him.

"He wasn't trying to make a 'P', there, inscribed in his own blood. He was trying to make a 'B'. Wasn't he? 'B' for 'Butusov.' Only he died before he could finish the letter."

Butusov stared. "You're insane. I don't know when it happened, but you've obviously lost your mind. Maybe it's the stress of all that's happened, but you're clearly delusional." He looked around. There was only one doorway leading into his office; there weren't even any windows, the office itself being below ground.

And a madman was sitting between him and the door.

Petrowski rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Actually, I wish I was. It would make things so much nicer, if all this was just in my head. But I'm afraid it's not." Abruptly, he looked up at Butusov. "It's not too late, you know. Turn yourself in, admit to these crimes. I can't say it'll result in a suspended sentence or anything, but, at the very least, it could be kept out of the news media circus. You've a family, Rory! Think of them. It wouldn't do for your nieces to remember their uncle as the one who killed the Princess Brianna, and tried to kill the new king and queen. It could all be swept under the rug, as the saying goes."

Rory Butusov was flabbergasted. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about! And it's clear you're suffering from some sort of dementia! You need help, Peter, serious help! I only wish I'd seen it sooner, maybe I could have helped you…"

"Rory, Rory, Rory. Please. Calm down. And quit trying to press the 'emergency call' button underneath your desk. It's been shorted out, for the purposes of this conversation.

"You maintain your innocence. Is that your final word on the matter? Very well, then. You need to see the contents of this valise." And he placed the heavy valise on the desk between them. "Go ahead. Open it. I can promise you it won't blow up. After all, I _am_ sitting right here."

Suspicion filling his eyes, Rory Butusov checked the bottom drawer, where a Beretta 92F lay, fully loaded. If he had to be trapped with a madman, at least he wasn't defenseless.

He cautiously clicked open the valise, noting how heavy the sides of it seemed to be. Within was a folder containing several signed and notarized documents: lab and forensics reports. "You've been bringing the royal couple their meals for the past three days now." Butusov's eyes widened as he saw the lab reports, detailing the poison in the food, and the crime lab's reports of his fingerprints on the trays. "But what you couldn't know was that you were trying to poison two very unique individuals, two individuals who couldn't be poisoned, and who were capable of detecting said poison without the aid of instruments. Two people whose disguises were even better than your own.

"Why, Rory? I know you loved her, in a sense we all did, but why did you carry it to this extreme? There was no need to take it out on the entire royal family! I could see you as wanting vengeance on Charles, if you feel he mistreated the Lady Genevieve in some fashion, but there was no reason to act against the entire brood! What came over you?"

Rory Butusov was silent for a long, long moment. Then, "I suppose you've seen to it that copies of this have been distributed to the authorities."

"Actually, no. That is the only copy. There are no others."

Butusov's hand flashed into his bottom-most desk drawer, came out holding the gun. "It's obvious what happened. Driven over the edge by your own psychological problems, compounded by the loss of your position, you sneaked into the castle, found your way to my office, and made some threats. I was forced to shoot you in self-defense." He was perspiring heavily. _They don't usually show that part in movies and TV._

But Petrowski seemed not to be perturbed at all. "Oh, put that away before you hurt somebody. It's way too late for that, anyway. For us both."

Narrowed eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Be a good chap, Rory, and dim the lights a little. You won't have to dim them much; just a little."

Still keeping his eyes and his gun on Petrowski, Rory Butusov lowered the light level in the smallish office….

…and gasped in amazement when he saw the folder he'd just been handling was glowing, slightly, a bluish-white glow normally drowned out by the overhead lights.

"Xeronium 371. A highly radioactive substance found only here in Markovia. I'm sure you're familiar with it; it formed the basis for the poisons you used to kill Brianna and Dmitri. And of course, you know there's no antidote." He paused, sadly, it seemed. "By now, we've both absorbed more than a lethal dose."

Butusov finally found his voice. The gun dropped from his nerveless fingers; he didn't even notice it. "You…you…you madman. You've killed us both!"

"Yes." Petrowski's voice was matter of fact, as though he were describing the weather. "I had to make sure, old friend. But now I am. Given how fast the element works, I doubt we'll see another sunrise. But not to worry; I brought a deck of cards." He produced them from his jacket pocket. "So we won't be bored."

"But…but _why?_ You don't even _like_ that green girl, I've heard you say so! Why are you doing this?"

Peter Petrowski lifted his chin. "I may not approve of my king's choice in wives," he said, solemnity in his voice and face, "but he is still my king." Then his face softened somewhat, as he held up the cards. "First cut?"

Over ten miles away, on a small hillside, Gwen, Terry, Omega, and Athena were listening to the exchange via the wire Petrowski had worn into Butusov's office. "I…I can't believe it," whispered Terry, his face more pale than anytime Gwen had ever seen him. "Not Rory. He was…he was family. Almost more father to me than my real father. I, I just can't…." But he couldn't continue; the tears wouldn't let him. Gwen embraced him, and Athena rubbed his back, making soothing noises.

After a few moments, Omega cleared his throat. He did this for theatrical effect alone, as his vocal systems did not require such. When Terry and Gwen looked up at him, he faced them. "Your Highness, it's obvious what happened." They looked up at him, uncomprehendingly. He continued. "The assassin, the same one who murdered Dmitri, sneaked into the castle, with the intent of poisoning you both. Prime Minister Petrowski surprised him before he could do so, and chased him down the hallway into Chancellor Butusov's office. The two of them struggled with the intruder, trying to subdue him, but all three were overcome by the deadly agent he was carrying. They died as heroes."

For a long, long moment, Terry was silent, thinking. Then, "Rory has some nieces, doesn't he? Yes, yes, Omega, that's exactly how it happened. That's…that's it, exactly. I'll issue a press release tonight." He looked up at them, suddenly seeming to be both younger than he was and older, at the same time. "Thank you. Thank you both." He turned back to Gwen. "I'll give the order to brick up the area around Rory's office. Lead bricks. Above and below, too. Just cordon off the entire area."

"Then," said Omega, bowing slightly, "Athena and I will be taking our leave. We've yet a long way to go, and our people are waiting for us."

"Yes, of course. And thank you both. Know that you will always be welcome here, in my land, in my house."

Flying back to the cave where they'd left the Osiran crystal, Athena Linked to Omega. **{{That was an expert job of play-acting you did, back there in the royal bedroom, with me,}}** she "said," with a crooked smile.

**{{Thank you. I strive to do my best. As, I'm sure, you also do.}}** Keeping his mental voice and face carefully neutral.

There was a brief moment of mental silence as they landed, and began to dig the crystal out of its mountain of dirt and rocks they'd left it beneath. **{{I imagine,}}** began Athena, the crooked smile still on her face telling him she wasn't about to let it go _that _easy, **{{that there are some things, some aspects of our adventure here, that we need not discuss in full with…other people. Blackfire and Kitten in particular.}}**

**{{Indeed. It's entirely possible they wouldn't understand.}}**

**{{Indeed,}}** Athena echoed, her smile broadening into a mischievous grin, **{{But it was truly ****superb**** acting, on your part. Perhaps you missed your calling. Maybe you should have been a thespian, an actor.}} **In the very back part of her mind, she was clinging to a hope she dared not express, even in her own thoughts….

Omega said nothing, either in Link or voice. But somehow, in some way, Athena received a very slight, very subtle message from him—or perhaps from her own fearful subconscious: _Perhaps I have not missed it. __Yet_.

_To be continued..._


	17. Chapter 17: Territory

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results, Chapter 17: Territory

_I don't own the Teen Titans. The character of Alice is used by permission by Walkerjordan963. Thank you, Jordan! _

_Please read and review.  
_

Territory

Our universe: The Titans convened at their T-shaped headquarters, as there were still some minor problems with the lair they'd "inherited" from Slade. But Raven could see a point in time when they might use the subterranean system of caverns as a main meeting ground. It was certainly far less high profile, and easier to defend.

And defense could easily become an issue, in the near future.

Blackfire and Kitten had stuck by her side the entire time, once they got back from the Caribbean nexus point. It had been a good idea, to lay a secondary ambush for Rorek, should he try to cut and run with Raven, to complete whatever he was endeavoring to do to her somewhere else, but fortunately, they hadn't needed it. Perhaps Rorek had not thought his attack through…but she didn't really believe that. The Rorek she'd read about was a skilled tactician, who'd gone up against a dragon more powerful than he, and who'd still managed to best it.

On the other hand, Malchior hadn't had any backup. That could've easily made the difference. "Alright, people, here's what we've got. Evidently, by some unknown means, the ancient Scandinavian warrior wizard known as Rorek is active in this century. As you all noticed, he's extremely powerful. And it appears he's been misinformed about me, believing me to be some sort of monster, ruling an unspecified area by means of magic. So he regards it as his sacred duty to 'depose' me, and 'rescue' those innocents I've kept in thrall.

"But how did he get here? I can't believe it's all just coincidence, what with the theft of my book, Malchior being released, the book being taken by another (if Malchior's dying words were true)…and now this. I've searched the literature I have, but can find no other mention of Rorek of Nol. That's not all that surprising, but what it means is, the only sure way to find out anything about him was from the pages of my stolen book. But how did he get here? Anyone?"

"Time travel?" said Kitten. "Maybe some meatball read about him, went back in time, 'n' put the snatch on him. Or, you know, not just grabbed him, but told him of some 'great evil'," and here she made air quotes, "in the far future they needed him to fight. Or something."

"That's the most logical explanation, except for one thing: apparently Rorek speaks modern-day English very well. A thousand years ago, they didn't speak quite the same language as we do. And it's very possible Rorek didn't speak English at all, being from the Scandinavian area. I know Malchior did, but that was because of a magic spell. So somebody had to take the time to either teach him English, or spell it into him…not an easy task, on a powerful sorcerer…as well as 'misinform' him as regards to me."

She sat back in her chair at the table's head, the very chair Robin had once occupied, and which Raven fervently wished he still occupied. Even though she knew Robin and Starfire deserved their happiness, still, sometimes she just wished somebody, _any_body, would come along and take over this damned job. "So it seems I've more than one enemy here. Whoever is responsible for Rorek's appearance now appears to be the worse threat. Hank?" Hank looked up, upon hearing his name. "Have you made any progress on finding out something about Beulah Bleak?"

He cleared his throat. "Yes, I have. But it's not much." He flipped some pages, speed-reading, hitting the high points. "Sister to Klarion Bleak, the Witchboy, resident, as far as anyone knows, of a place called Limbo Town, which is rumored to be miles below New York's subway system. They apparently are the survivors of the Roanoke colony that was found abandoned way back in 1590, the word 'Croatoan' carved on a nearby tree. Up until just recently, nobody even had any good speculations as to what might have happened to the colonists, but, according to what sources I was able to get, evidently everybody in Limbo Town has magical powers to one degree or another. This would seem to indicate some sort of cross-breeding with someone or something that uses magic, resulting in a hybrid race.

"Except for Klarion, Beulah is the only known resident of town who's made an appearance here aboveground. Oh, wait, there was one incident, a ways back: a Limbo Town resident, a kid calling himself Uriah, attempted to create some sort of magical beast, but Robin and Klarion stopped him. He was never heard from again.

"So those are the only two residents of Limbo Town we know of." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Not a lot to go on. We know it was Beulah Bleak who somehow stole your book, released Malchior, and then sacrificed him, apparently in an effort to…what? Summon something?"

Raven nodded. "It certainly seemed that way. But if she was trying to summon the quantivores, she failed."

"Huh? How do you know?"

"Because magic, unlike most other forms of energy that we're familiar with, is non-quantum based. It's entirely possible the quantivores wouldn't even notice. So I doubt that was her intention."

"Could she have been trying to summon a being like Typhon?" asked Cyborg. "I know the circle was 'pointing' straight up, pretty much, but…"

"Azar, I hope not. One Typhon is more than we can handle. No offense meant, Ghost."

"None taken, Miss Raven. I'm afraid when they fight, too. I wish they wouldn't do that."

Raven smiled at the little girl in the grey hoodie. "Well, they haven't in a while. Maybe they won't. Has Mr. Typhon said anything about anything we've been talking about?"

"No, ma'am. Though I get the impression he's fighting the Entity on more levels than one, ones that aren't so obvious. But he's…worried."

"About what?"

"He says the Entity—he calls him the Enemy, or the Adversary, but you know—is…I don't know the word…_solidifying_ maybe? Anyway, _solidifying_ his presence here on this world, and in this universe. He seems to think the next step is for him to start assimilating humans on a mass scale. That would _really_ be bad, he says."

Raven was silent. In a sense, that was her fear as well, but it was also, in a strange sort of way, a hope. If the universe was coming to an end, humanity would need a life boat. That life boat might very well be the one she and the others called "The Entity."

Raven had seen—partially—into the creature's GodSoul, seen the apparent perfection of all living beings within it. But the key word there was "apparent." Raven realized two things: one, for a creature on the level of the Entity, it would be entirely possible to show only the good side of such an arrangement, or to simply show a condition that really wasn't true at all. In other words, what she'd sensed could easily be a lie.

And, by the Entity's own words, once one was assimilated, there was no going back. Assimilation, full assimilation, was permanent. It would be easier to unscramble an egg. In fact, compared to that, unscrambling an egg would be child's play. "Well, anyway." She turned, addressing the wall monitor where Terra's image was projected, attending the meeting via the net. "Terra? What's the status of Gizmo's project?"

"_Coming along well. Rodney—Control Freak—has been designing and redesigning various devices. It's all over my head, but Gizmo seems to think it'll be effective against the quantivores. Now, the end of the universe thing…that's still up in the air. But one disaster at a time."_

"Agreed. Any idea when his device or devices might be operational?"

"_No. He's been working himself into a tizzy, though. He's convinced the 'vores could be here at any time. That's driving him on."_

"I hope we have a bit more time. Kitten? Any word from Omega and Athena?"

Kitten fidgeted nervously. The two had been overdue now for some time. "Nothing. We can't sense them unless they tube, and so far, they've only tubed that one time. I, I hope…" Her voice faded out, and Blackfire rubbed her back in an effort to console her. Her lover was overdue, too.

"Well, we can only remain as vigilant as we can. I know you are all doing the best you can, and I know these are trying circumstances. I truly appreciate all your efforts…"

"Raven?" Cyborg signaled, "One thing. Captain Yeats has been sending us information on those disappearances I told you about. Do you suppose you could find time to scan one of the crime scenes, see if you can pick up anything forensics might've missed?"

"I'll try." Raven rubbed her eyes tiredly. She'd been missing sleep lately. "Why? Do you think the disappearances have anything to do with magic?"

"It's very possible. I've examined the scenes myself, but the only thing I've come up with is mostly nuthin'. From the state of the clothing and the slashed upholstery of the vehicles, it looks like something with claws did it, but the only blood I can find is that of the victim. And the slash marks…call me peculiar, but they don't look like anything I would think of as 'normal'. That's more hunch than fact, but…"

"I'll accompany you to a site then. Maybe I can pick something up."

"We'll both be coming, too," spoke up Blackfire. Kitten nodded, seated beside her. "We don't need another surprise visit from this Rorek guy. From what you said, things got a little too close, last time. And I'm sure he's learned from his mistakes."

"Alright." It would be a good idea, and, thought Raven, it would give the two young women something to do, to take their minds off their missing lovers. "Alright. Now, on to other matters…."

…

_The first thing Omega was aware of was a crushing pressure._

_He literally could barely move. Considering his great strength, this was definitely cause for alarm. Had he materialized within a neutron star? But no, that would've been impossible…_

_He could sense Athena, through the Link, also feeling the weight of whatever it was smashing them both down. _**{{Athena, are you alright?}}**

**{{That depends very much upon your definition of 'alright.' I cannot move…no, wait, I can move, but very little. Where are we?}}** _The emergency tube system they had been using was designed to home in on the energy signature of the Osiran matrix generator Omega had once appropriated from the Kindred. It had been tricky to do, seeing as how the Osirans themselves also utilized matrix generators, so this one had to be designed to home in on theirs._

_He strained his senses to the utmost—and that was another thing: even his vision powers seemed to be affected. But straining as he did, he could barely make out the confines of what looked like a ship's corridor, but curiously distorted and devoid of any color whatsoever. There were no living beings in sight. _**{{I am not sure…but I believe we are onboard the **_**Deson.**_**}}**

…

"Yeah," said Yeats, "This is the third one we've had this month." He'd brought them to the latest crime scene, an apartment on the west side, and Raven had gone over it thoroughly. "We've tried factoring in the usual, as well as the unusual, data: time of day, time of the month, full moon or not, you know, the works. But there's been no consistency to these…incidents." He fell silent, clearly unsatisfied with the use of the word.

Raven could understand. Although there was plenty of blood, now dried, splashed about, all over the floor, the couch, and even some on the curtains, there was no body, and without a body, or other such evidence, one couldn't be sure that a murder had actually been committed. "Did the victims have anything in common?"

"We looked for that. At first, we thought we got lucky: the very first ones were all well-to-do businessmen, all of them single, some owning their own businesses. So we thought it might be somebody with a grudge against Yuppies or something.

"But then we got one of a vagrant, over around the park. Same MO. Lotta blood, torn clothing, no trace of a body. And we've had two since then who were apparently just plain folks. Like this guy. John Chapman. Lived alone, held down a job, went to church, even. 'Bout as ordinary as they come. But…" And he gestured to the blood-spattered apartment. "There's no signs of forced entry. Usually, in those cases, it means the killer is somebody known to the victim. But in this case, I have it on good authority Chapman didn't really know anyone here in the city. He'd recently moved here from the east coast. For the killer to follow him all the way over here would be a bit of a stretch, though I guess it could be done." He paused, thinking. "But I still can't picture any way the killer could so completely dispose of the body. I mean, there's no trace. Nuthin'. What could _do_ that, anyway?"

"Several things." Raven's mind was working overtime. "But none of them fit these cases." She was beginning to see why Yeats had called them in on these cases. They were definitely odd. And her scan of this most recent site was disturbing, mostly because she could get no information about the murder at all.

Whenever someone dies by violence, there is an outpouring of energy that can be detected by someone reasonably sensitive to such things. Occasionally, such an energy burst could linger in the area, manifesting itself even to non-sensitives, giving rise to ghost stories. Yet here, where violence had clearly taken place, there was nothing. No trace of any energy signature. That, in itself, was disturbing.

In ordinary murders, the killer might "wipe" the scene of the crime, removing any traces of their involvement, erasing fingerprints, making sure they'd left behind nothing that could connect them to the crime. This was similar in effect, but not so similar in execution. It was like all traces of the killer had been psychically _vacuumed_ out of existence. Again, she tried a scan, careful not to reach too deep. There was no need to advertise her presence here to any number of spiritual predators such as might have conceivably done this. Stealth was called for, to a degree.

Over by the window, Cyborg was busy scanning the apartment with his electronic senses, hoping to pick up something that magical senses might not perceive. As before, nothing significant registered.

He glanced out the window. They were on the third floor, with the busy city street down below. On the sidewalk across from the street from the apartment complex, he noticed a girl, a girl with blond hair, wearing worn blue jeans and a navy hoodie. She was looking up straight at him.

He looked back. Who was she? Why would she be looking up here? "Raven? Check this out." Raven walked over to the window, followed his gaze down to the street. "She anybody we know?"

"Who, Cyborg?"

He glanced at her. "That girl, the one in the hoodie. She's looking straight up here, she-*" But a glance back down at the street showed no sign of the girl. "Didn't you see her? Blond girl, skinny thing, navy hoodie? Looking right up here?"

Raven shook her head. "No, Cyborg. I didn't see anyone like that."

Cyborg turned away thoughtfully. The girl had been there, of that he was sure. And, for some reason, Raven hadn't seen her. As if she'd been invisible.

…..

High up on the tallest peak of the Rocky Mountains, northern Colorado: "Rod_ney!_ Get that converter finished!" Gizmo's voice stabbed down from the upper level of the massive planetarium-sized device he and Control Freak were assembling. He was sitting in the control chair, adjusting the various buttons and interfaces, positioning them for his use, peering out at the night sky through an aiming aperture in the domed ceiling. Every button, every lever, every switch had to be _right there,_ and he had to make sure the whole contraption would work. A hungry alien form of life coming straight down your throat was an extraordinarily poor time for a malfunction of your primary (and only) weapon.

If this didn't work, it would be like trying to fend off a saber tooth tiger with a chicken leg.

For about the ten thousandth time he thought how unreal all this seemed, and how cool it would be if all this was a dream of his, and he'd wake up at home, in bed. No quantivores, no end of the universe, and he could get back to plotting his next heist, just like the good old days. No matter how much fun it was to play with this new tech, nothing was worth the ulcers he could feel developing.

The good old days. Back when he had no responsibilities, no worries. Just having fun, usually at others' expense, but fun's fun. Back before he'd found himself in the middle of a war to preserve the very planet he was sitting upon. And not just the planet; if he failed here, the entire solar system, maybe even the entire galaxy, would be next.

So, yeah, no pressure or nuthin.'

He moved the controller, swiveling the cannon-like structure that composed the main mass of the interior of the dome. Of them both, Gizmo understood the most about the device, though there were parts of it he grudgingly admitted would forever remain a mystery to him. Such as what Rodney was currently working on.

"Patience, Giz. Genius cannot be rushed."

"It sure as frack can be _eaten!_ And you should'a had that thing finished a day ago!" He really didn't have any hard evidence that the quantivores were anywhere in the vicinity, but his gut was telling him….

A spot of blackness rolled across the face of the nighttime moon, something curiously resembling a tumbleweed. But Gizmo knew there were no tumbleweeds in outer space, and he felt a chill settle over his arms and shoulders. "Rod!"

"Five minutes!"

"We don't _have_ five minutes! _I just saw one of those frackers cross the moon!"_

"_**Warning. Warning. Warning. Incoming nonquantum object detected, anomalous trajectory. Mark 45.28 degrees by 171.25, velocity mark 7.0, vector mark 1456, zero, zero. Updating. Vector mark 1454, zero, zero. Updating. Vector mark 1452, zero, ze-*"**_ The computerized voice, patient as Job, droned on, heralding the end of the world.

"Okay, already! I'm juicin' it! Get ready!" And he settled the device into position, placing his thumbs down over it, like an old-time dowser. And concentrated. Hard.

It wasn't a spark, but if anyone had been present to see it, their minds would have interpreted it that way. _Something_ arced down from Control Freak's thumbs straight onto the module before him. The lights flickered…and the device sitting before him came alive with coursing, moving lights of its own, lights expanding outward from the center, like a cloud of disturbed hornets

"_**Power levels at maximum. Repeat, power levels at maximum. Non-quantum object still approaching, velocity mark 9.67, vector mark 1347, zero, zero. Updating. Vector mark-*"**_

_Heh, heh,_ thought Gizmo, as he felt the huge dome come alive, humming with power. _T-bag mode, engaged!_

He flipped the switch that would alert the Kindred, over a thousand miles away, that he was ready to fire, saw the return signal come back almost immediately. Alpha would be readying the nonquantum shield the Kindred had developed, but he couldn't raise it until after Gizmo's attack, lest it contain and reflect back upon them the very forces they were about to unleash. Man. When he got through this, he just _hadda _go check out their stuff…

_If_ he got through it, that is.

Absently, he felt in his pocket, seeing if he had any gum. His fingers brushed against the piece of Osiran eggshell that stupid little girl Deena had given him. Why had he kept it? He had intended to toss it in the trash…oh, wait. Yeah, that was right, he wanted to run some tests on the material, see what it was made of. He knew Osirans weren't made of the same kind of matter as anyone else, and so was curious. Yeah, that was the reason why he kept it. Of course.

Never mind. That was for later. For now, he had a battle to fight.

He settled into the control chair, his fingers poised over the buttons that would spew nonquantum death at the invaders. This had to work, or it'd be an episode of "The Walking Dead," but on a cosmic scale. And the entirety of the Earth—for that matter, the entirety of the solar system—would suffer.

The quantivore came rolling in from galactic east, almost bouncing to and fro, as though careening off something. Gizmo realized it must be absorbing space junk. "Get ready, people," he breathed, not just at the distant Kindred, with their force-field, but also at Raven, who'd assembled a world-wide network of mystics, linking them into one unified whole. If Gizmo's contraption failed, for whatever reason, they, the mages, with their non-quantum magic, would be all that would be left between Earth and the apocalypse.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the floating view screens showing Terra and Gar's drawn faces, down in the main power room in the caverns below, ready to implement what emergency repairs they could…if they had time. He could see Alpha's alien face, and noted the air of calm the alien scientist had. It was encouraging, to know that at least one person wasn't about to soil his underwear. Because that person sure wasn't him. The predator he was about to face would make a great white shark look like a minnow by comparison. "Here we go!"

The quantivore came within five thousand miles of Earth. Gizmo's targeting system zeroed in on it, the hexagonal markers converging… "C'mon, just a little closer…" It was coming in too fast; he'd have no time for a follow up shot. _Make the first shot count._

He pressed the trigger.

A beam of absolute darkness, mankind's answer to the invaders, speared forth from the dome, lancing into the sky. It caught the quantivore dead center, transfixing it on its length. For a brief moment, the quantivore hung there, like a insect impaled on a very long pin. Then it shrank, deforming, and vanished, whatever substance it was composed of dissipating into the aether. "We got one!" Gizmo exulted. But he didn't let himself celebrate too long. Where there was one, there could easily be others…

The next one came in from galactic north, moving in a curved line, following the curve of the Earth. Gizmo speared it, and it thrashed about for a moment, then died.

_Are these even living beings?_—thought Gizmo, _or maybe just…some kinda condition of space? Or, or not-space, in this case? Well, doesn't matter. I gotta job to do._ "Raven! See if your people can do anything! We can't let even one of those frackers get through!" If they did, it would be as bad as if a black hole fell to Earth. The thing could just roil around inside the very planet they were on, feasting on all the lovely, abundant quantum matter until it was all gone. And removing it might be impossible.

_Make that "next to impossible,"_ snarled Gizmo to himself, wordlessly. _This is __my__ world, you buttless sniffers, and you __ain't__ welcome to it._

A quantivore homed in on the Watchtower; Zatanna and Dr. Fate summoned the might of Earth's sorcerers and enveloped it in a disruption net. The thing (creature?) thrashed and shook violently before disintegrating.

Three more fell before Gizmo's gun, with the sorcerers accounting for a total of four. Gizmo looked through his instruments, hoping against hope they'd gotten them all…

He gulped. "Uh, Rod? I'd say it's been nice knowing you, but sometimes you can be a bit of a pompous windbag…." On the floating screens, Terra, Raven, and Alpha looked up. What?

"Why are we having this conversation, Giz?" Control Freak's voice was low and dangerous.

"'Cause I just counted over seven trillion of those frackers coming out of a nexus point out beyond Saturn. And they are NOT headed away from us."

_To be continued…._


	18. Chapter 18: By Faith, Not Works

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

…..

Chapter 18: By Faith, Not Works

….

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Please read and review!_

…_.._

High overhead, in the _Starheart,_ the entity humans called Typhon deliberated.

He'd witnessed the humans' successful repulsion of the quantivores. For such a primitive species, it was somewhat impressive. After all, they'd diagnosed the nature of the enemy, and developed a weapons system that actually worked. For a first time, that wasn't bad.

Of course, he thought a bit ruefully, in similar situations, the defenders hadn't had the luxury of a second chance.

But now, he felt compelled to do something. The quantivores headed towards Earth threatened more than just Earth. Anything and everything was their prey. Matter, energy, even time and space….they were like starving piranha, suddenly given a buffet.

If he did nothing, there would be nothing left of this entire solar system. Then they'd move on to the next one. There would be no point in safeguarding humans' free will; there wouldn't be any humans left. At all. And even if the nonquantum shield the Osiran Kindred were even now preparing to activate worked (and he saw no reason why it would not), it couldn't encompass the entire solar system. They'd come out from behind their shield, only to find themselves adrift in empty space, the sun and the other planets having been eaten. Of course, that, too, would mean the end of the world. No world, unless of a very high order, could survive all by itself in the cold night of empty space.

So it seemed to him that he must take action, even though he knew said action would be only temporary. "Missy?" Instantly, she was "there", her virtual presence by his side. "Tell your friends I am about to do something. They will need to take precautions; it will be rather violent. Tell them to secure as much of their technology as possible, and prepare themselves for the possibility of a physical effect."

"Yes, Mr. Typhon." Instantly, Missy—Ghost—shifted to her energy waveform and skipped to Titans' Tower, where Raven and the others awaited. They'd just now gotten the word from Gizmo about the oncoming quantivores; some were practically weeping in frustration, but most of them were in shock. It was all for nothing? How could they fight _this_? "Miss Raven?" Raven looked up in surprise. She hadn't seen Missy in several days now. "Miss Raven! You all have to get ready! Mr. Typhon's gonna do something, I don't know what, but he said to secure everything you can secure, and get ready! Okay?"

"Er…okay, Miss—I mean, Ghost. But what is he going to do?"

"I don't know, but it'll be freakingly awesome huge! I gotta go tell the Kindred!" Off she flashed. "Mr. Alpha! Mr. Typhon says get ready…" And so on. Her last stop was the fortified underground city Gizmo and the others had painstakingly rebuilt. "Mr. Garfield, Miss Terra! Tell everybody here to get ready, cause Mr. Typhon's gonna do something about those quantivores! Get everything braced!" They nodded, and Terra immediately began shifting parts of the stony earth around them into struts, braces…

Huddling down in the control room of Fortress Maximus, Gizmo and Control Freak were stowing away what they could. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this," muttered Control Freak, "I could'a skipped out into the TV, like I once did, an' be safe. But noooOOOooo. You were all like, 'C'mon, Rod, we'll save the world. We'll be heroes.' Yeah, we'll be heroes, alright. Dead ones." He was stashing his personal belongings into a knapsack. Exactly why, he didn't really know; the quantivores were gonna eat everything, so why did it matter where things were?

Except he just felt better stashing away his personal stuff.

"Yeah, yeah, whine, whine, whine. You still gotta chance to make like Mike Tyson all over some of 'em, anyway." Gizmo noticed a piece of paper on the floor, bent down to pick it up. His eyes popped out when he saw what it was. "Rod_ney!_ This is a picture of _Raven_!" He looked up at Control Freak, grinning. "You carry a picture of _Raven_ around with you?" He couldn't keep the hilarity out of his voice.

Control Freak—aka Rodney Foster—snatched the picture away. "None of your business! I have pictures of all the Titans, all across the globe! 'Know your enemy,' and all that. Remember that time I thought I was fighting the regular Titans, only turns out they were another group altogether? So, yeah, these days I make it a point to know who is and who isn't a Titan, and where." He hurriedly stuffed the photograph into a book-cover.

Gizmo kept chortling. "An _autographed_ picture? Of _Raven?_ Oh, this is priceless!" He rolled on his side, laughing. "You got the hots for her, don't ya? Admit it: you think she's _hot!_" He was holding his sides, laughing.

Control Freak gave his erstwhile ally a look of pure disgust. "I hope the quantivores get you first. So I can watch."

…..

The _Starheart:_ Typhon waited. Missy was informing the various superhero groups of the impending action, but even at the speed of light, that took some time. He utilized this time to study the oncoming quantivores.

Of course, he'd heard of such creatures. Rumored to live in those universes with the lowest quantum energy states, they really couldn't be classified as "life," not such as mortals (or even many immortals) would classify it. They were mostly entities, conditions of space/time that had somehow become localized so that each one had a single locus of being. They exhibited no signs of intelligent behavior….

….or did they? He noted that they passed up two whole planets, plus a great many asteroids, in their single-mindedness(?) to get to Earth. Why would they do that? They were more akin to a forest fire than true life. And this was like a forest fire passing up some dry tinder in order to make for somebody's house. Did non-intelligent beings act that way?

No matter. Ghost reappeared by his side, crackling into virtual solidity within the solid green crystal sphere that was the _Starheart._ "You've told them?"

"Yes, sir. I even managed to tell some of the super bad guys—you know, the supervillains—so they won't be caught unprepared."

"Very well. Now. I need you to merge wavelengths with me, as what I'm about to do is going to be very stressful on pretty much anything around, and I can protect you better from within. Are you ready?" She nodded, and, with another crackle not heard but sensed, merged her self with his.

Typhon summoned his power. Watching from within him, Missy "saw" the levels rising, rising, rising…_was_ there even an upper limit? If so, it was beyond her ability to comprehend it…

The oncoming quantivores were just getting within range of the Earth-moon system when a wave-form completely unlike anything ever before witnessed in the universe formed around both. For a moment, the quantivores seemed to hesitate…

…And Typhon released the waveform in the form of an expanding shockwave, radiating outward from the planet-moon system with the force of an exploding galaxy. It met the leading edge of the quantivores and tore into them like an acid, dissolving them, returning them to the substrate from which they came. Still more crowded in; still more were destroyed. The wave reached out, out, ever out, passing harmlessly through the normal baryonic matter of the solar system, but annihilating the quantivores, erasing them from Earth's universe.

The wave passed on out beyond Pluto, undiminished. Past the Oort cloud. On outward into space it spread.

On board the _Starheart,_ Typhon took a moment to close the nexus point the quantivores had emerged from, taking care to note where it led. He knew this universe didn't have long to live, and, although he lacked the power to change that, he could repair it, on a local level.

Of course, his definition of "local" was a bit different than that of humans.

Earth: Raven and the others watching in, watched in open-mouthed astonishment. This was the power of Typhon. And they'd actually once contemplated attacking him? A flea would have a better chance against an atomic bomb.

Within the Kindred Hive, Alpha watched his sensors and smiled. Yes. Of course, a good deal of the data he was receiving made no sense, but a great deal did. Well, that was to be expected: evidently, the "Typhon" entity originated in a universe with very different physical laws. But there was a great deal of crossover.

So the data kept pouring in. Hm, he thought, monitoring the readings. Very interesting, indeed.

…

Omega could barely move. He'd never known, never encountered such a feeling of _pressure_. **{{Athena? Can you move? At all?}}**

**{{I…I am not sure. Yes, a very little bit, but some. What is happening? You said we were on board the **_**Deson…**_**}}**

**{{I said I **_**think**_** we are on board the **_**Deson.**_** It's a theory I have. I'll have to explain it later—if it proves to be true. For now, can you reach the crystal?}}** The Osiran matrix hypercrystal had followed them, connected to them by means of the "leash" in the control gloves they'd absconded with.

**{{I believe I can. What do you want me to do?}}**

**{{I need you to push it towards me. I have to be in physical contact with it for what I'm about to do.}}**

Slowly, painfully, she crawled towards the crystal. The pressure was unbelievable. The only thing she could even imagine that might come close would be to have materialized within the depths of a neutron star. But that was clearly not what had happened, not if the _Deson_—or any other such ship—was here.

The hypercrystal weighed tons, but normally that wouldn't have been a problem for her. But under these conditions—whatever they were—she had to move it by increments, turning it and sliding it first one way, then the other. Her senses were also affected; she could barely see Omega, lying face down on the floor of the corridor, only a scant few feet away.

He crawled towards the crystal, sliding his body along the floor, an expression of determination on his face.

Athena's mind raced. What could be happening? She remembered that the _Deson_ had disappeared, and that the Orb had said the piece of itself on board the ship had "died," but it had never elaborated, and she couldn't imagine how that could possibly correlate with what she was now experiencing. If the ship had been destroyed, why was it here, wherever "here" was? This didn't correspond to any of the afterlife scenarios she'd heard from the humans, or from Blackfire, who'd heard of several during her wanderings.

Blackfire. Thinking of her lover, waiting patiently for her back on Earth, gave Athena added strength. She would break free of whatever grip was upon her. She would return to her. No matter what.

Finally, their combined efforts were successful, and Omega was able to touch the surface of the crystal with his gloved hand. For a brief moment, Athena thought she could see a reflection, or a hologram, of Omega himself within the crystal, like a picture taken for a portrait….

In the next instant, the enormous _pressure_ eased, and the two were able to rise to their feet. The color flowed back into the walls and bulkheads around them, and their superhearing detected the sounds of beings groaning.

**{{Come. We must see if anyone has been harmed.}}** And he led the way down the corridor, where Athena saw several Hunters lying on the floor, evidently just now coming to. Omega knelt by one of them, examining the Hunter with his senses, detecting no signs of permanent damage. "Are you alright?" He moved to another, as did Athena, helping the raptoroids to their feet.

It quickly developed that the Hunters were unharmed, and that their last memory had been of the shields failing. "But I do not understand how we came to be…where we are." Talks-to-God was holding his head. Being older than the average crewmember, he'd been hit a bit harder by the event, whatever it was.

"Where is… the piece of The One you had with you?" Talks' eyes widened as he remembered. Seer of the Way quickly ordered several Hunters to the quarters assigned to the fragment of The One that had accompanied them.

It was empty. "I think I know what happened, or at least, I have a good guess." Omega was thoughtful. "The last communication with The One, back on Earth, stated that it felt like a part of it had 'died.' It's quite possible that the piece you had with you might've sacrificed itself to place you—the entire ship—into a kind of limbo, a region of space outside of normal space and time. That would account for our being unable to contact you, and the…strange effect that immobilized you, and nearly immobilized Athena and me. You, we, were outside space-time, so different physical laws applied."

"But then…how did we get back?"

"I don't know that we _did._ We need to see if we can determine where and maybe when we are."

"Captain?" The helm officer spoke to Seer. "I'm running these sensors, and…I cannot be completely certain, but it does not look like our space at all."

"Are we in another universe?"

"No, I'm seeing certain marker stars that are on our charts. Oh, we could be in a parallel universe, one nearly identical to ours, but…"

"Let me see." Athena knew quite a bit of the astronomy of Earth's universe. "You may have to instruct me as to how to read these instruments."

"Unnecessary," spoke up Omega, over by the hypercrystal. "I've determined that we are in our universe, our home universe, that is. And it's the same one we left. However…" and here he frowned, his hand placed against the side of the hypercrystal, "…if these readings are accurate, we are displaced a bit in time."

"How much of 'a bit'?"

"I would say…sometime in the late Miocene."

…

Earth: Raven had called an emergency teleconference with all standing Titans across the globe. She'd considered inviting the Justice League to join in, but hesitated. In a sense, she felt like this was Titans' business, though of course, the League would need to be consulted at some point. "Alright, people. The purpose of this conference call is to share what information I've been able to accumulate. I warn you, it isn't good news. It's a bit complicated, so please excuse me if I don't tell it well. Here's the high points of what we know.

"We, in this solar system, are currently host to two immensely powerful beings, beings more rightfully called 'godlike' than any ever before. And we, humanity, are caught in a tug of war between them. I'm about to get to the details about that.

"According to what I've been able to determine, our universe has a finite lifespan. We don't know when the end will come; we only know that it will. Our recent attacks were a…preliminary excursion, a sort of 'first shock,' so to speak, from that ending. The beings that attacked this world are called 'quantivores,' and they feed on anything composed of quantum packets of matter/energy. I don't suppose I have to tell you that pretty much includes everything.

"We were able to strike back at the quantivores, but I want to stress the quantivores aren't the main problem. Not that they can't kill us just as dead…but they are a symptom. They were able to enter this universe because the very fabric of creation is coming undone. Even if they do not come back, the main problem remains.

"This is not the fault of any single super-entity, such as the Anti-Monitor or Nekron, but rather a, well, a natural process. There is no single point source to focus our efforts upon. There is no super enemy to fight.

"We were able to develop weapons against the quantivores, but the ability to restore our universe to its original state…" She took a deep breath. "Well, we don't know. We have operatives, seeking solutions," she said, thinking of Omega and Athena, somewhere, somewhen, trying to find some way out for all those listening. Had they found anything? Or would they ever be heard from again?

Could the Osirans help? Raven didn't have any illusions as to what "arrangements" a conqueror race would require in exchange for their help…

Speedy was talking. "Raven. What was that…that humongous shockwave? That wasn't anything we did, I'm pretty sure."

"You're right. As I said earlier—and I realize this is a lot to take in, so I've prepared folders that I've just had sent to all of you, giving more of the details than I'm able to go into right now—there are two unbelievably powerful beings here. One of them apparently decided to take a hand, and save us from the quantivores. But I must stress this is not something we can rely upon; these beings' motivations are not quite as simple as that. They have their own agenda. I'm preparing a…more public statement for later, when we'll need to contact the Justice League. Also, I'm waiting on some word from our operatives, which may make a considerable difference, as far as choices and options go, depending upon what it is. But I wanted to disseminate this information amongst us first." Here she quirked a smile. "Although it wouldn't shock me to learn a certain resident of the city of Gotham is fully aware of this conversation, even as we have it." She sobered and turned to the rest, their images hanging in front of her, looking in from the innumerable windows generated on the main 'com's screen.

"When our operatives return, they may—I sincerely hope they do—arrive with news that may enable us to increase our options. But right now, this is all we have. Take the time to study it, and I'll place a conference call to the Justice League in one hour."

….

"The late Miocene?" Athena gasped. "On _Earth_?" Blackfire hadn't even been born yet. But even as she spoke, she realized: time travel _forward_ presented no problem.

"Yes," replied Omega, using speech, as she had, so the Hunters could be included in the conversation. "Of course, this isn't that serious a problem, unless other factors complicate it."

"True," said Talks-to-God. "All we really have to do is locate a supermassive singularity—what you call a black hole—and orbit it just outside its even horizon for a time. That will cause the passage of time to slow down for us, while the rest of the universe is unaffected. Then, at the proper moment, we break orbit and return to our time."

"Essentially. Also, I believe I can use the hypercrystal to shunt us forward in time…but in both cases, we would have to be very careful to 'hit' the right time-destination. Going forward in time isn't that difficult—we do that all the time, naturally, one second per second—but going _back_ in time would present….difficulties."

"Indeed." Talks-to-God came up to him, as did Seer of the Way. They began examining the strange hypercrystal Omega and Athena had stolen from the Lords of Osira. "So this is what brought us back from wherever we were?"

"Yes. I had heard rumors that my people were working on devices, systems, that affected reality directly. It was widely considered highly dangerous research, for obvious reasons, and most such systems incorporate safeguards, to ensure that reality doesn't get "unmade" by accidental use of the device. But this…" He touched the sides of the crystal that was both there and not-there, simultaneously, "is a crystal in its pure form. I have imprinted it with my own biosignature to ensure that I, and only I, can utilize it." He paused, got up, and turned to the waiting Hunters, and Athena. "I'll need the most accurate data you have on just precisely when we are. If you'll get me that information, we can proceed."

…

Earth: Raven sat in the common meeting room with the others. Most of them were drinking coffee; she had her herbal tea.

Everyone there was in a state of high anxiety. Not about the ending of the world, or the possible return of the quantivores, but about the upcoming teleconference with the Justice League. That, Raven realized, could get…tense.

She came over and sat by Hank. "Well?"

He showed her a page on the laptop he was operating. "Reports are pouring in from the various Titans' groups, Rae. Most of it looks favorable—to you, I mean—but there are some who are questioning why this material wasn't made available to them before now."

Raven sighed. She'd expected this, to some degree. When Robin had been in charge, his policy was to not involve the other Titans groups unless needed. And at that time, the information they'd had was so scanty, there really wasn't much to say. The Justice League had certainly been aware of Typhon, who'd made no real attempt to conceal himself. And the Entity….

In the back of her mind, Raven made a mental note to contact the Entity at a later time and ask it a few questions….

Then she decided against it. There was no point in being so secretive from her friends; after all, they knew about the Entity, and her relationship to it. "Guys, I'm going to try to talk to the Entity. There's some things I think I need to know."

Blackfire and Kitten, who'd been rummaging around in the kitchenette for snacks, looked over in alarm. "Uh, right here, Rae?" Blackfire was clearly a bit nervous. "Don't you want a little privacy for that?"

"There may be things I'll need privacy for, but what I want to ask him this time isn't one of them." Then, to the Entity: **{{Are you there?}}**

_**{{Yes, Raven, I am here.}}**_

**{{You saw what happened?}}**

_**{{Yes, quite impressive, actually. Typhon does good work, I have to admit.}}**_

**{{I'd like to know why you didn't do something like that yourself. Don't you claim to want to save us? Yet when the quantivores were coming, it was your enemy who saved us.}}**

_**{{That is true. The reason I did not intervene directly is due to my nature, Raven, and the nature of the relationship I have with you.}}**_

**{{I hope you're not about to say it's all my fault.}}**

_**{{No. But to do what Typhon did would have had very, shall we say, **__**drastic**__** consequences for you, due to the nature of our relationship. Had I channeled that much power through into your universe, it would have destroyed not only your physical body but also any immortal part you have. Your soul, in other words. And the only way I could have protected you from that was by fully assimilating you, making you One with Myself. You've told me you don't want that…yet.**_

_**{{This is the same thing Typhon did, as well. He had to merge with Missy in order to shield her from the side effects of the wave he unleashed. For a brief moment, she became him, and he became her. It was not true assimilation, such as I propose, but it served the same purpose. And to answer your next question, I could not have done that for you because my essential nature is different from Typhon's.}}**_ There was a brief pause in the Entity's thought-communication. _**{{This is not to say Missy will emerge unscathed. Mortals, no matter what powers they have, simply cannot become that intimate with true Transcendence, true post-physicality, without any side effects whatsoever. I don't know how it will affect her. But affect her it will.}}**_

**{{Alright. I…suppose that answers my biggest question.}}**

_**{{I sense other questions within you. Ask. I will answer what I can.}}**_

She drew a deep breath, there on the couch. The others could see her sitting there, but were not privy to her private conversation with the Entity. Blackfire and Kitten had rejoined them, both carrying bowls and trays of snacks. _Never talk about the End of the World on an empty stomach,_ Kitten thought. Then, _Where the devil was Omega?_ It would be so good to have him here, right now. Hell, it'd be so good to _be having him_, right now…..

**{{Alright. Moving on. You're aware of the conference call I placed? And the one that I am about to place, to the Justice League?}}**

_**{{Of course. I could hardly be omniscient if I were not.}}**_

**{{Care to give me any advice on how to proceed with that?}}**

_**{{There is little I can say, Raven. You know your teammates—and by that, I mean those in the Justice League as well as the Titans—as well as I do. You know that, were you to simply relay my offer to them, most of them will not accept it. They would sooner die as singletons than live on in Unity.**_

_**{{But there will be some who will. These will be your allies. However….and perhaps I'm "shooting myself in the foot," to use the curious human phrase…it's quite possible you might want to hold off on telling them about my offer until Omega returns.**_

_**{{But know you this: no matter what is said, no matter what angry remonstrances may be brought against you, that I am with you in this. I will be there with you. You have a friend in me. And….you have a home, whensoever you choose to claim it. That will not change.}}**_

Raven sniffed. Must be allergies. _Okay, then._ The others were watching her intently, completely unaware of what was being said. "Okay," said Raven, pulling herself together. "I suppose we'd best be getting ready for that teleconference."

…..

The Past: The year was 1517 A. D., as the Earthlings measured such. The Hunter ship orbited Earth, while Omega and Athena worked to fine-tune the hypercrystal's time-jumping ability. They had made two such jumps already, one, that had brought them to one of Earth's ice ages, and another when Rome was in full power. But both times, they'd been just a little off: the first time by a thousand years or so, the second by a couple hundred Earth years. That was a testimony to Omega's ability to control the crystal all by itself, but it wasn't good enough. Suppose their next jump landed them in 2170 A.D.? Their friends, the ones they were trying to help, could easily be long dead. For that matter, the universe itself could be gone, if their worst fears were realized.

Omega and Athena had gone down to the planet to orient themselves, to the city humans called Wittenberg, Germany, having used their photon manipulation power to change their skin color to the predominate Caucasian white, with blond hair. But privately, they both had a notion to bring their respective lovers back a souvenir of some sort. Omega knew Kitten would love some artifact from the past, maybe an old book or something. Even though she didn't normally advertise it, not being in keeping with the image she liked to project, Kitten was something of an antiquarian.

As they walked down the dusty streets, shouldering past crowds of people who were giving them such curious stares, Omega saw something: there, over there, a vendor was hawking fruits and vegetables, most of which looked like they'd long passed their expiration date. But what drew his attention was the necklace the man's wife wore.

It was a strange, leaf-like design embossed onto a beaten golden surface. The material was common enough, but the design was unfamiliar to him, and he knew Kitten would love it. Perhaps some sort of nature worship? "Excuse me, sir. I wonder if you would be willing to sell me that pendent?" And he indicated the pendent in question. The woman held her breath, putting a hand to the pendent, looking at him apprehensively.

The man seemed both surprised and angered that this stranger would even ask such a question. "No. That pendent, sir, is not for sale. Not to anybody, not for any price."

"Are you sure?" Omega produced a small gold ingot. It had been no trouble to use the crystal to replicate any substance, and gold was simply another substance.

The man's eyes grew large when he saw the ingot, and he was clearly mightily tempted. "N-no. I-I could not sell it, not even for that price."

Omega had no choice but to respect that. "Do you know where I might find one like it?"

"No." The tall stranger made him nervous, for reasons he couldn't quite identify. "It has been passed down from mother to daughter through at least five generations in my wife's family." His wife, behind him, tended to the children, even while she listened intently while trying to pretend not to.

"Well, thank you. I shall be going on my way now." The vendor breathed a sigh of relief.

He found Athena leafing through a thick sheaf of papers in front of a large church door. "I saw a man in a brown robe come by and nail these to the front of the door. Once he'd done that, he leaned against the door itself and sighed, like he'd just put down a very heavy load. That seemed to be odd behavior, and drew my attention," she said. "It seemed a peculiar place for such documentation." She looked up and around. People were watching her, but nobody seemed inclined to interfere for some reason. "This is not a bulletin board, nor does it serve the place of one; I see nothing else so posted."

"What are they?"

"They appear to be a religious treatise of some sort. It's in Latin." She leafed through them, curious.

"You can read Latin?"

"Of course."

He looked over her shoulder. The words on the pages were elegantly inscribed, as though by a hand used to writing _a great deal._ The calligraphy was graceful and stylish, and had taken someone a great deal of time to so write it. Omega found himself wishing _he_ could write that well.

Well, perhaps he could, but he'd never really had the need to. "Well, as you say, it's a curious place for it. But we'd best not interfere with it; after all, we're in the past of the Earth we both know. Anything we do here could easily have repercussions in the future."

"Of course, you're right. I'll just put it back up." She held the manuscript up to the door, and prepared to just shove the nail that had been holding it in place back in, when she hesitated. "What is it?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing major. Just a spelling error. And a grammatical one. Easily corrected." And she used her heat vision, directing the energy beams _just so,_ blackening the page precisely. "There. That's better. Wait. There's another." She made more corrections, then proof-read the entire document at super-speed. "There. That seems satisfactory." And she reinserted the nail through the document. Then she turned to him, a touch of uncertainty showing on her heart-shaped face. "You don't suppose I acted too hastily, do you? I mean, it's like you say, we are in Earth's past…."

He shrugged. "It's probably nothing important. But neither of us has found a souvenir for our loved ones yet. Let's continue to look."

It was getting dark, and only a few people were in evidence on the street. Both were aware they made quite a pair: although they had changed their skin tone to match the general populace, and made their hair appear blond, still, the appearance of two tall, well-built "humans," one of them clearly female, wearing form-fitting uniforms did draw some attention. Athena was conscious of admiring looks coming from some of the men…sometimes more than simply admiring.

To be fair, however, she reminded herself, Omega drew his share of such looks from the women. Her mouth quirked in a smile as she glanced at him. He was, of course, totally and completely unaware of this.

But both of them also drew more than enough _un_friendly looks. They were, after all, strangers in town, and historically, humans don't react well to strangers.

"S-sir?" A timid female voice behind them made them turn around. It was the vegetable vendor's wife, swathed from head to foot in her cloak, and looking very nervous, glancing over her shoulder, fearfully.

"Yes, madam?" Omega stopped and came up to her. She seemed afraid to be seen talking to him. "Is something wrong?" Speaking in the Germanic language both he and Athena had been using since they had landed here, and hoping the honorifics he used were the proper ones.

"Do-do you still want this pendent?" She displayed the amulet, pulling it out from around her neck.

Something about the entire affair put both Osirans on guard. "Madam, is something wrong? Your husband did not want to sell this, to anyone, for any amount of money. I can understand that; a family heirloom is beyond price. And," he added, "it is fairly obvious that you are trying to keep such a transaction secret from your husband. Something is wrong. Please tell us what."

The woman hesitated. Then she began sobbing. "He—he didn't know he was poaching! But…but the baronet said…and the fine was t-too great…he was going to jail, or, or…but the baronet saw our daughter, our oldest daughter, Catarina…she is very beautiful…and, and…."

"I believe we understand." Omega glanced at Athena. "When did this happen?"

"He…the baronet…just came for Catarina tonight. I, I thought if I just could pay him the money…"

"You will not have to. Now, listen to me. Listen closely. Tell me about Caterina, what she looks like, everything. Then tell me where I can find this baronet." He glanced over at Athena, her own expression looking downright dangerous. "We'll go…_talk_ to the gentleman."

…..

**{{Well. That was refreshing,}}** Omega Linked to Athena once they were back on board the _Deson._ The Hunters were preparing for another time jump, and the two Osirans were in the chamber that had been outfitted for them and the hypercrystal. It was, coincidently, the same chamber that the piece of the Orb had resided before its disappearance when the quantivores attacked.

**{{Indeed it was.}}** Athena's mental "voice" was solemn. And her eyes…

He "heard" and looked away from his preparations for the time jump, to look at her. **{{I admired your restraint. I know you wanted to do far worse to that human than we did.}} **They were both kneeling in the traditional Osiran heel-sitting posture, sitting before the crystal, preparing to commence.

She nodded, slowly. **{{I did. But…it would not have been fitting. That man was no doubt guilty of crimes against his own, of that there is no denying. But to take out my vengeance on him for the crimes another did to me…would have been…wrong.}}**

For a brief moment, Omega said nothing, but halted in his preparations for the jump. Then he removed the control glove from his hand, got up, and came over to her.

To her surprise, he knelt by her, and put his arms around her. **{{I cannot express to you, how proud of you I am, that you are my friend. There is no one like you. No one.}}**

Athena's face hurt a little, even as her arms went, reflexively, around him. _Must be allergies,_ she thought. **{{I…I thank you. I feel the same. Perhaps we are both fortunate, in that.**

**{{But it is regrettable that neither of us found a souvenir from Earth's past for our loves.}}**

**{{Oh, that is perhaps an inaccurate assessment,}}** he smiled, still holding her. **{{For I don't doubt that, when Blackfire sees you, that will be the best souvenir she's ever had, from anyone.}}**

Athena laughed the silent Osiran laugh. **{{I had not thought of it that way, but perhaps you are right. And you, also, will give Kitten the best souvenir she's ever had.}}**

He let go of her, and returned to the crystal. His face was an interplay of emotions that defied her ability to decipher completely. **{{I hope so, Athena. I hope so.}}**

_To be continued…_


	19. Chapter 19: Through A Darkling Glass

Tales of the Titans: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results: Chapter 19: Through A Darkling Glass

…

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Please read and review!_

…_.._

Earth, present day: Raven and her team had gathered in the main control room, and were preparing to contact the Justice League.

Hank stood by Raven, his arm around her shoulder. She fervently hoped she didn't smell as sweaty as she felt.

The connection was established, and the other Titans groups logging on, too.

J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter, was the first to appear in the smaller bit of the main screen reserved the JLU. Batman appeared next, once again with a backdrop of the cave behind him.

Shayera Hol, the Flash, Green Lantern, Superman, and Wonder Woman logged on. Raven waited a minute, but it was clear not every superhero at the Watchtower was to be included in the video conference. Just the core members. "Alright, everyone, I'll begin."

And she told them about the Entity and his war with the one called Typhon. She told them about what she'd learned about the last days of the universe, how it was simply coming apart. "And the effect appears to be accelerating. So we don't know how long we have. I'm uploading files detailing all we have…"

J'onn J'onzz was silent for a minute. Then, "Excuse me, but…could this knowledge have been disseminated amongst us earlier?"

Raven sighed. Here it came. "No. For one thing, I didn't have most of this information until fairly recently. And two, we have operatives out attempting to secure the help of the Osirans. If they can succeed, Earth has a very good chance of survival. If not…"

"'the help of the Osirans'? To be honest, that sounds like something that should have been decided upon by us, rather than you. Or do you presume to speak for all of Earth?"

Raven drew herself upright. "I am aware that any 'help' the Osirans offer will come at a high price. However, our operatives can be…somewhat deceptive, shall we say?...and will seek to acquire what assistance they can without incurring any debts on our part. They've a good track record with that sort of thing."

"Then where are they?"

"'Not yet returned' is the only information I have to give on that point."

"Or the only information you're giving. It seems there could be some overlap. Conceivably."

Blackfire nudged Haywire: _Go on, just like we said, earlier._ "Uhm, if I may?" The other heroes' attention was drawn to him. "I know I'm a newcomer to this field, but I should think it would be more productive to focus on what might can be done instead of what was or wasn't done. After all, the past cannot be changed." It was what they'd all agreed upon, prior to the conference call, but neither Blackfire nor Kitten felt as though it would carry any weight, coming from them, being former supervillains themselves.

The Dark Knight spoke up, his gaze fixed upon Hank. "You are right, young man." Hank relaxed somewhat. "You _are_ a newcomer to the field." Hank tensed again. "However, your other points cannot be denied. But something tells me we have not yet reached full disclosure." He turned his attention back to Raven.

"So…these two godlike beings are here to do what?" Green Lantern was puzzled. "I don't think you got to that point."

Again Raven sighed, and Hank's arm around her tightened. "Alright. This is where it gets….intense.

"From what we've been able to discern, Typhon wants to preserve us as we are. Not save us, you understand. But preserve human individuality. Allow us to live _and die_ as singletons. The 'and die' part is crucial for what I'm about to say.

"The Entity, on the other hand, offers complete and total sanctuary within himself. He seeks to assimilate everything—and everyone—in all creation. He has told me that most humans won't accept that. But what he offers—and I admit, I'm a bit biased due to my relationship with the creature—is not just survival, not just immortality beyond anything we've ever contemplated, but, but _completion_, I guess you'd say. I've seen a brief glimpse of his Oneness, his Wholeness….and it was…well, let's just say what I saw is pretty much anything and everything one could possibly desire and then some. Oh, not so much any acquisition of any material objects or wealth as it was emotional and spiritual _completion_, souls coming together, uniting in Oneness. It was…quite powerful, I don't mind admitting."

Batman spoke up again. "It sounds very much like you've already made your choice."

Raven was taken aback, but then realized the truth of his words "Yes. Yes, I guess I have." Hank's arm tightened around her again, the unspoken message between them crystal clear: _Wherever you go, I'll follow._

"But the choice is now humanity's."

"And," another, uexpected voice broke in, "our options may have increased by a bit, just now." Omega and Athena walked casually into the conference room.

"Omega!" Kitten practically leaped at him. "Where the devil have you been?! I was so worried…"

He held her, even as Blackfire did a similar rush onto Athena. Neither Blackfire nor Athena said anything in words, but the kiss they shared said enough. "We've just now returned. We encountered the _Deson_, and were able to bring it, and its crew, back with us. We just had a bit of a difficulty with, I suppose you'd say, the timing of it all." He smiled a little crookedly at her, then looked to the multitudes of viewscreens. "We have brought back something that may help. Athena and I were able to acquire a pure Osiran hypercrystal, an experimental technology our people have been working on. It affects reality on a direct level, and so may afford us some control over our current situation."

"Where is this hypercrystal now?" Batman's eyes narrowed slightly. Raven tensed.

"It is in my laboratory, my workshop. I have imprinted it with my own biosignature to prevent anyone else from tampering with it. It is the crystal in its rawest form, I should stress. Most such crystals designed and built by my people had built-in safeguards. This one has none. It will basically do anything I 'tell' it to."

"Perhaps it would be best to move it to the Watchtower. For safekeeping."

"Highly unadvisable. I can work with it best here. And setting up shop, so to speak on the Watchtower, would take up valuable time. Time which we are still running out of. It would be in everyone's interest if I got to work, immediately."

He turned to the assembled heroes' images, all of them looking at him. "I cannot stress the danger of this research enough. Even the Kindred haven't the experience that Athena and I have with such things. But these are desperate times." He looked Batman right in the eyes as he said it, his unspoken message crystal clear to the Dark Knight: _And any attempts to remove the crystal by force would be highly inadvisable, too._ After a moment or two, Batman grunted and turned away.

"How soon can we reasonably expect any sorts of results?"

"I will begin work as soon as I can."

…

"Oh, no you don't, lover." Kitten whispered into his ear, as the conference ended and he closed the transmission. Completely unnecessarily, of course; he could have heard her from a city block away. "I've got first dibs on you."

He smiled at her. "Of course, Kitten. That is what I meant by 'as soon as I can.'"

Downstairs, in Athena and Blackfire's small room, the two had just completed a very intense and extremely satisfying bout of lovemaking. Blackfire was impressed; for somebody who'd never really heard of sex (except for the horror that the Lord Natal had inflicted upon her, but that hardly counted), her lover was an amazingly quick study. Now they lay comfortably in each other's arms, while Blackfire filled her in on recent events. She'd gone over Rorek's mysterious appearance, and the danger he'd posed, and had mentioned the strange murders in the city, and was now on the enigmatic box. "And our friend apparently hasn't gotten over being cryptic. This last message read: _'You cannot trust him. She is in danger.'_ And of course, he included the standard golden rose and crystal vase. We're gonna have to move to a bigger apartment, just to house those things, if he keeps this up."

"Hm," thought Athena, "'You cannot trust him. She is in danger.' I agree; quite…cryptic. What is your take on the matter?"

"I don't know who the 'he' is, but I'm convinced the 'she' is Raven. After all, she's the linchpin of this whole group right now."

"And the 'he'?"

"S'gotta be the Entity. He's been asking us to trust him, to let him assimilate us, to save us. That's a pretty big step of trust.

"But what I can't figure out is where these messages keep coming from."

Athena lay with her in their small bed, holding her. It felt so good, at long last, to hold the one she loved, to know that she was _safe_…at least for now. "I'm hesitant to say this, but I've a theory about that."

Blackfire looked up at her. "Hesitant? Why?"

Athena was silent for a moment. Then, "I suppose there's no need for such reticence, if indeed my theory is correct. I think these messages are coming to us from the future."

Blackfire looked puzzled. "The future? How do you figure that?"

"Consider. Whoever is sending these messages seems to know exactly where to find each and every one of us at, we can presume, almost any given moment in time. That time with the mosquito, when you were…injured," and Blackfire could hear the tension in Athena's voice. She still hadn't gotten over that. "The only ones of us in the tower at the time were Omega and I, both of us quite invulnerable to any mosquito, and you. Even if the mosquito's proboscis could have penetrated your skin, you are not Earth-descended. There is no reason to think the plague it carried would have any effect on you. If the intent had been to attack Beast Boy and Terra, they were on the other side of the Earth. So as a threat, it was about as ineffective a one as possible.

"Now what the purpose of the gate that opened and closed so abruptly, and that injured you, that I cannot conjecture. It's possible it was set to either trap or kill me. Or…it may have been deliberately designed to lead us to Lucifer's lair…which is where I ended up. But remember what Alpha and the Orb both said: the currents in hypertime are ever shifting. The only way one could completely predict which currents would take one where…would be from the vantage point of the future."

"Of course…" Blackfire looked stunned. "It would make all kinds of sense…and the cryptic warnings…."

"…are an effort by someone living in that future to prevent a paradox. If we solve the puzzle on our own, it would presumably have minimum effect on his or her reality. But if whoever it is tells us precisely what to do, and we do it, then there would be no need to send messages back through time to tell us what to do, therefore we would not do it, so therefore that would lead to a condition or conditions whereby we would need to be instructed as to what to do….a never-ending paradox."

Blackfire held her head. "I think I need some aspirin. So whoever it is, is trying to allow us as much free will as possible…a do-it-yourself future…I get it. But who could be doing it? And who could be the 'he' mentioned in the note?"

"As to who could be sending us these messages, that I don't know. There are several possibilities, but I—make that _we_—will have to sort them out in order of probability."

Blackfire smiled, lying back against her lover. "'We,' huh?"

"Of course we. Did you think I would exclude you from this? Or from any aspect of my life?" Athena turned to Blackfire and kissed her passionately. "I know I've a lot to learn about relationships, but even I know that keeping secrets from you, my love, would only serve to drive you away. And I will not allow that to happen." Another kiss. "I want us to be as one."

Blackfire returned her kisses with interest. "Well," she said smiling a slightly dirty smile, "I think we're well on our way there."

…..

Upstairs, in Omega's room. He and Kitten had just completed yet another round of their own lovemaking. Kitten was coming to be aware of something, something that she had previously not really given that much thought to: the Osiran was _always_ ready. The organ he used to give her such pleasure had no other state save erect; therefore he was perpetually in a state of readiness. And, of course, his stamina…

"Whooo," she breathed, finally satiated. For now. This had been what, the seventh time? No, the eighth. At least. "I loooove that vigor of yours. So," she smiled a dirty smile of her own, "So can I take it that you missed me?"

"You certainly can. And…" Something about his voice caught her attention, and she looked at him. "There was a time when I wasn't sure if I would ever see you again. I…" He found he couldn't finish the thought.

She rolled over to him, and squeezed him as hard as she could. Enhanced strength or no, she didn't have to worry about breaking _his_ bones. "Yeah. Truth to tell, I was beginning to wonder the same thing. Next time we gotta have some means of communication. Something. Skype, I dunno. Even telegraph signals would be better than just plain nothing."

"I sincerely hope there won't be a 'next time,' at least, not with the Lords of Osira."

"Okay, so you gotta tell me: what went on? Tell me everything." And he recounted his and Athena's experience, facing the Osirus himself, and of what he'd sensed within the supreme Lord of the Empire, that, yes, help was available, but for a price. How they'd found the raw hypercrystal, managed to sneak it away from underneath the very eyes of the Lords themselves ("Although," he stated, "I must confess to some misgivings about that."

"What do you mean?"

"I wonder if we were truly all that undetected. The Lord Osirus is extremely powerful and intelligent, and remember: he is the apex of Osiran society. It would not surprise me to discover that he may have known more than he let on."

"Yeah, well, if so, he still let'cha get away with the crystal. Don't borrow trouble, 'Mega. We got enough as it is."), their adventures on Gwen and Terry's world ("So they're doing okay? I'm glad. Wish we could see 'em, sometime. I'd love to see their kids." Smile. "Little green earth-movers. 'Course we may have that here, before long."), to their finding of the _Deson_ in the limbo where the piece of the Orb had placed it ("Glad you two got 'em out. I like Talks to God, and Seer's a good guy, too."), and their adventures in Earth's past ("Hey!" She lifted her head suddenly, looking him right in the eyes. "I know about those documents! I sure hope Athena didn't change 'em too much!"), and their subsequent arrival here.

Afterwards, she half-lay across him. "Wow, 'Mega. Sounds like you had a full calendar. Though things have been busy here, too…." And she filled him in on the happenings that had occurred while he and Athena had been gone, ending with Raven's terse call to the Justice League. "And I don't think we made any friends with the straights. Plus the fact that we've been consortin' with two known criminals: Gizmo and Control Freak."

"But from what you've described, they could scarcely have been more beneficial, and they acted fully on their own, without having to be prodded by such promises of 'time off for good behavior' or such other similar things. Surely the League will take that into consideration."

"Omega…love…you don't know humans very well. Some of 'em are still unsure about Komi and me being Titans. I mean, it wasn't that long ago we were out there, doing godawful things, or even just annoying things. Remember that time I tried to take over the whole city with mutant bees? I heard the mayor got stung right on his butt." She grinned, unexpectedly. "I would've paid a lot of money to've seen that. I heard he couldn't sit down for a week. But to get back to the topic, this whole thing, all that's transpired, has mostly involved us, the Titans. The League's only been, like, on the outskirts, the periphery. That's gonna gnaw at some people, and they're gonna wonder at the 'wisdom' of letting 'junior superheroes,' most of whom have, at one time or another, been side-kicks to older, 'adult' superheroes, have so much…power. And, honey, nobody gives up power, not without a fight. It just doesn't happen."

"So you are thinking we may find ourselves opposed by the Justice League itself?"

She nodded, lying against him. "It's a distinct possibility, love. In fact, it's a probability. Study Earth history sometime. It wouldn't surprise me if some of them blame us for these recent problems. Oh, don't look so surprised. It's human nature. One or more of them would probably say we made the wrong decision somewhere along the way, and now the older, more established superheroes need to step in and save the day. Yes, honey; that's the way some people think. You and I both know what that's a pile of, but somebody's still gonna think it."

He suddenly sat up in bed, drawing her up alongside him. "Kitten. There is something that has been…the Earth expression is 'running around inside my head' for some time now." She looked at him questioningly. What could he be talking about? "I…" And here he hesitated. She raised an eyebrow. This wasn't like him. He gestured towards the engagement ring on her finger. "I…don't know if I have the correct words for it, but…

"….if you would permit me, I would like to upgrade that ring you're wearing."

….

Downstairs, Athena started up from beside Blackfire, her eyes wide. "He's done it. He's actually done it!" A broad smile broke across her face.

"Did…did what, 'Thena? And, and who're we talking about?" Blackfire yawned herself awake.

"I forgot, you don't have superhearing. You couldn't hear that yell just now. Kitten's yell."

"_Kitten's_ yell? What would Kitten have to yell abo-oh, my goddess…." Now a grin broke over _her_ face, even as she hastily climbed out of the narrow bed. "Well, come on! Let's go congratulate 'em!"

…..

Blackfire and Athena weren't the only ones who'd sensed Kitten's squeal of joy. Raven and Hank had each, in their own way, become aware of it, and Cyborg had been alerted when the noise sensors went off. "Congratulations, you two!" He pumped Omega's hand, even while the rest crowded around both Omega and Kitten. "So it's definitely on, huh? Well, good deal."

Gar and Terra took that opportunity to signal in, alerted, as always, by Gar's supernatural connection with Raven. "So you two are really gonna do it, huh? That's great! When's the big day?"

"We haven't decided," Kitten began, but Omega signaled her for attention. "Now that everyone's here that needs to be here…Cyborg, just how secure is our link with Garfield and Terra?"

"Well, of course, nothing's uncrackable, but…"

"We may need to upgrade our security features in the very near future. If what Kitten has been telling me is true, there is a distinct possibility that our allies may not be our allies anymore." The others nodded, especially Raven, who'd come to the same conclusions. "And another matter: we need to consolidate our strengths…and those who _are_ our allies. The Kindred, the Hunters, the Orb, the various Titans' groups across the world…and the Entity. We cannot discount him." He turned to the group as a whole. "I hate to introduce a piece of such severe practicality into this matter, especially now, but it may well be that we cannot count on our previous funding sources." Raven and the others nodded. It followed: if the Titans began to take "unauthorized action," then funds from the usual sources—such as The Wayne Foundation, the League, among others—could easily be cut off. "I don't want anyone to be too worried about that aspect of matters; we still have vast resources, and, with the hypercrystal's power, it is quite possible to simply synthesize any substance we desire. And I feel the Kindred will also back us on this matter, and they, like us, have the matrix generators which can do the same. And bear in mind, our trade agreements with the Hunters involve _us_, not the Justice League. But it is a concern, nonetheless. Plus we cannot rule out the possibility of covert activity."

Again, they all nodded. This was becoming a very somber group, to have come together for such a joyous occasion….

But then he threw he arms back in an uncharacteristically expansive gesture. "But all that's for later! I wanted to share with you this simple joy! _Kitten and I are getting married!_"

"Hey, hey!"

"Good deal!"

"Waytago!"

"That's what _I'm_ talkin' about!" Somebody got out some soda, and soon cans of soft drinks were in everybody's hands. Both Athena and Blackfire hugged the happy couple. Then Blackfire put a hand to her mouth in sudden realization. "Hey, waitaminnit! _What're we gonna tell the kids?"_

….

A few minutes later, what had turned into an impromptu party was still going on, with Blackfire and Raven hammering out how to explain matters to Angelique and Missy. Privately, Raven doubted either of them really needed all that much preparation, but better safe than sorry.

Omega drew Kitten off to one side. She turned and embraced him, plastering as much of herself as she could up against him. "You know," she whispered, "I'm fully recovered and recharged from last time. And _this_ time, Mr. Superior Life Form, I'm gonna give you a run for your money." Her mouth sought his…

"Kitten." Just that one word caused her to pause momentarily. How was it possible, she thought, for just a word, a word spoken just the right way, to be such a _downer?_ She looked up at him.

He was looking down on her, his dark eyes seeming to penetrate to her very soul. "Kitten, I…I have a favor to ask of you."

"I thought you already asked me, and the answer was hell yes."

"This is…different." She waited, sensing that he needed time to put his thoughts into words. "I…want you to remember this night. I want you to remember…how it felt. And, most of all, I want you to remember me the way I am, right now. Can you do that for me?"

She gaped at him, mouth actually open. What _was_ he talking about? "Of course, I'll remember you! And, and this night! How could I ever forget?" Then her eyes widened. "Omega…you aren't about to do something crazy, are you?"

He brought her hands up to his mouth and kissed them gently. "I've no plans to. But we are embarking on a course of action that is completely unpredictable. I don't know what will happen. I do know I want to have this with you, this union called _marriage_. For it may well be that the time for such enjoyments could be coming to a close. And…should I not survive…"

"Don't you even think that!" she hissed, throwing herself up against him. "If _anybody_ survives, you see to it that it's you! I got big plans for you…most of 'em horizontal…"

He returned her embrace, a somewhat sad smile on his face. "I, of course, will do my best. But you know the future is uncertain. So please. Remember me, this way. Will you? Will you promise to do that?"

Pressed up against him, Kitten couldn't help but feel a cold shiver run up and down her spine. "Yeah, 'Mega, I promise. I promise."

_To be continued…._


	20. Chapter 20: Battle Lines

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results: Chapter 20: Battle Lines

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Please read and review!_

…_._

Chapter 20: Battle Lines

The next morning: Omega requested a conference call with the Justice League. As some members were out, it took some time to get a quorum. When the League was able to accommodate him, he was alone in the Titans' comm station.

J'onn J'onzz surveyed the being in front of him. "You have requested our attention. For those of us here, you have it.

"Before we begin, however, I would like to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials." _After all, there is no point in being uncivilized about these matters._

_ It is to be hoped that such a time does not occur. _

"Thank you, sir. It was a bit of a sudden decision for me, but one whose time had come, I felt."

"Indeed. So. Now, do you have anything to report about the use of this hypercrystal?"

"Yes and no. Athena and I are exploring its full usage—I fear we'll need full usage—but as of right now, there is nothing of a significant nature in that area to be reported."

_Or that you will report,_ thought the Martian Manhunter. He couldn't probe Omega's mind, the way he could so many. "Then what have you to report?"

"I would like to deliver a report on Athena's and my excursions into the Osiran Empire. I believe such information could prove useful. And, I have another bit of information that bears telling."

"Very well. We have recorders operating."

For the next hour, Omega recounted his and Athena's journey to the newly-resurrected Empire of Osira, their encounter with the Lord Osirus, his own doubts about whether or not they'd actually managed to take the Osiran Lord totally by surprise, their flight into the alternate universe (leaving out many particulars, only stating they had taken every precaution to prevent themselves from being followed), their discovery of the Hunter starship _Deson_ in the limbo universe they found it in, their successful efforts to return, their journey through time to the present day (he saw no reason to dwell upon the details of their adventures in Earth's past), and finally, their successful re-entry into the modern era. "There is another matter which probably bears mentioning, as it may impact the Justice League directly." And he told them about Beulah Bleak's sacrifice of Malchior to send out a beacon into the universe. "It is unknown who or what she may have been attempting to summon. However, the possibility exists that she may have been attempting to summon a being like Typhon."

The various members of the League stirred somewhat. They all remembered the sheer overwhelming _power_ of the being who called himself "Typhon," his battle with the Entity, and of the way he'd dealt with the quantivores…a way that had been far beyond anything anyone on Earth could hope to accomplish. They also remembered his indifference to their attempts to communicate with him. That, all by itself, was troubling. "So you believe she was attempting to summon more like him? We were under the impression that he came here alone."

"That he did. And this is the thing: she may have been attempting to summon a being _like_ him—but not necessarily another being of his affiliation. If you see my meaning. Someone from a different camp, in other words. With a different agenda."

"Ah. I see." J'onn J'onzz rubbed his chin. Batman refused to take his gaze off the Osiran. His expression hadn't altered ever since they'd logged on. "So….someone of Typhon's general nature, but with different, perhaps more amenable goals. Yes. That is definitely something we need to be aware of. But I sense there is more."

"Yes, sir." And he proceeded to tell them about Rorek, his attack on Raven, and their suspicions regarding him. "Rorek's being a time-traveler is unlikely. But at this point, we've no other possible scenarios to account for his being here, in this time. Since he is clearly misinformed about our team member, it begs the question: who has thus misinformed him so?"

"Good point. Have you any ideas?"

"At present, no. We've no further information regarding the matter. But he may turn up elsewhere, equally 'misinformed' about other heroes. This could prove troublesome."

"True. Especially if he's as powerful as you indicate. But you've had no further indication of him, anywhere?"

"Not yet, no. I've a feeling that won't last.

"Another matter: whether or not you are aware of it, our team member Terra was also attacked—and by a magic user, also. We only overcame her by the greatest of difficulty." He'd sent them a heavily edited report regarding their battle with Mirissa. It did not mention their discovery of Beast Boy's true heritage; they had talked it over amongst themselves and decided that it might not be best to let other, less personally involved superheroes be aware that their group contained not one, but two heirs of the demon overlord. Already, there were those in the League who called for the sequestering of Raven, by force, if necessary, regarding her as untrustworthy and potentially dangerous. And, of course, in a way, they were right.

But that wasn't the point.

_Raven is ours. Come what may, she is of us. You cannot have her._ None of them had to say it out loud.

Inwardly, Omega sighed slightly, although he was careful not to give such away. Already, battle lines were being drawn. Battle lines between allies, friends, even, in some cases, relatives. "At this point, there is nothing else to report. Apparently, Typhon's energy blast was sufficient to drive the quantivores away, at least for now. The Kindred have developed a non-quantum shield that should be effective in case they return, but, of course, this would not save the solar system.

"I must stress, along with Raven, that Typhon cannot be counted upon to act in our defense in all circumstances. His agenda appears to be precisely what she said: he seeks to preserve the human right to choose. A perfectly laudable goal in its own right, but not necessarily one guaranteed to suit everyone's needs. He does not guarantee us our continued lives."

Wonder Woman spoke up for the first time. "Omega, something we might be losing sight of. You mentioned that you are unsure that you and Athena were undetected in your escape from New Osira. Worst case scenario: what if you were not?"

"Worst case scenario?" He drew a deep, completely unnecessary breath. "We could find ourselves under Osiran domination tomorrow morning."

…..

After the conference, Omega rejoined Kitten in what had now become their room. True to her nature, Kitten had put up a few pictures. One was a picture of her late father.

Seeing the photo made Omega all the more acutely aware of the secret he was keeping from her. And yet, how to go about telling her? "Kitten, there's reason to believe your father isn't dead, as the body we buried was a clone."? His love had suffered enough, what with her father being murdered by a madman…but would this knowledge only serve to increase her emotional anguish, or would it diminish it?

And there was another secret, one he dared not even think about, that he certainly could never share, with anyone. Except Athena.

Only Athena had been privy to his secret, and only she knew of the cloning of Killer Moth. She, like himself, was a stranger to the world of emotions. She didn't know what to do either.

As he came in, she looked up from the computer terminal where she'd been working. "Hey there." She was engrossed in whatever it was she was studying. "Say, Omega. Gotta question."

"Ask."

"How do we determine which of the Titans' groups will actually join us? I mean, we are preparing for a worst case scenario, a showdown with the Justice League, right?"

"Correct."

"So we're gonna need some big guns of our own. How do we know who to trust? For that matter, how do we approach them in the first place?"

He sat down in his chair, swiveling it to face her. "I'm afraid that's one of those things we'll have to, as the saying goes, 'play by ear.' I think—and so does Raven—that it might be best to first contact those groups of Titans with whom we've most closely associated in the past. Titans East, for example. Though even there, we perhaps must be cautious. Speedy, for example, is the protégé of Green Arrow, and, while they've not always seen eye to eye—where _did_ that phrase arise, anyway?—there could nonetheless be more loyalty there than to the Titans. It may even be wiser strategy to reach out to those groups who've never had any dealings the Justice League. We discussed that, too."

"So what was the consensus?"

He shrugged. It was amazing, she thought, how they'd already become so…._domestic_. She guessed that was the right word.

"I really don't know. But, Kitten…we may have to prepare ourselves for a worst-case scenario."

Now she swiveled her chair to face his, her face completely sober, and maybe a little scared. "Us against the entire world. I know. Could we do it, 'Mega?"

"Theoretically….I don't know. The Justice League does have some powerful members, but so do we. In terms of sheer, raw power… Raven is a lot stronger than many mystics give her credit for. Athena and I probably exceed Superman's powers, if only by a few percentage points. But we're better trained in the use of those powers. Superman had to evolve his own fighting style. That's a bit of an unknown, there. But then there's Captain Marvel, Captain Atom, and the Martian Manhunter, none of whom are lightweights themselves. As well as Dr. Fate, and Zatanna, and possibly Zatara, too. But frankly, the one that concerns me the most is Batman." He frowned.

"Yeah. I think he's more of a threat than all the others combined."

"Indeed. You know all the rooms here were bugged, don't you?"

She raised an eyebrow. "No, but it doesn't surprise me. You think it was Batman?"

"The devices were of exceptionally high order. I almost didn't find them, even with my ultrascan vision. But find them I did."

"What did you do?"

"I knew simply destroying the bugs would only result in more, perhaps better, such listening devices. So I altered their programming a little. Now they regularly report basic inoffensive, interpersonal chat between people, only some of which deals with anything of a sensitive nature, and that of routine progress reports. I hope that buys us some time." He paused. "But I am sure Batman has other ways of gathering information. He is easily the most resourceful individual I've ever encountered. So I've been in communication with Alpha. He and Gizmo are designing devices that will enable humans to utilize the Link."

She gaped. "Of course! The Link's secure. But how can it be done?"

"They are working on a cortical implant at this moment."

"An implant?" Kitten was a bit taken aback by the idea, even though she knew it was pretty much the only way to go.

The Osirans had long ago done away with spoken speech, opting instead for a kind of artificial telepathy they called Link. It was based on quantum entanglement, so information, and only information, could be transmitted instantly from one individual to another. It was extremely secure, so that even others in the Link could not "eavesdrop." In many ways, it served as the perfect form of communication, enabling the users to transmit huge amounts of data in microseconds, far more efficient than any speech. And it enabled users to access datafiles and even programs on a level previously only dreamed of by internet users. "Wow. Yeah, that would be…awesome, 'Mega. When can we do it?"

"It will not be long now." He got up and came over to her. There was something in his stance that made her look up. It was like he had something very important to say. "Kitten, I…I have something to tell you."

She saw the look in his eyes. It was a very serious look. Whatever this was, it had to be big. "Okay. I'm listening."

He knelt down on the floor in front of her, in his traditional heel-sitting posture. He studied his hands, not looking up. "This is big, Kitten. It could easily affect our relationship. After you hear it…you may want to reconsider that ring on your finger." Not long ago, he'd proposed to her, and she'd joyfully accepted.

"Omega…you're scaring me. What could possibly be so, so…big that it'd make me not wanna marry you?"

"I have kept a secret from you for some time now. In truth, I had hoped to have more information on the subject before I told you, but…I have no further information to impart, despite my searches." Another pause.

"Go on," she encouraged him, from her chair, sitting with her legs crossed, her chin resting on her hand.

"Before I begin…Kitten, please understand one thing: I love you. I have, ever since the day, that night when I first met you, sitting on that park bench, raindrops falling on your face, angry because Fang had stood you up. I took one look at you, and….I was never the same thereafter. I'm sorry, I'm telling this poorly, but…"

She made a decision. Getting up, she took his arm and pulled on him. She couldn't have budged him, not without the aid of a steam shovel, but he got the idea and stood up, allowing her to pull him over to the bed. "Come over here." And she led him to their bed. Climbing in, she motioned for him to join her. "Get in here with me."

"But, but Kitten…when you hear what I have to say…"

"I said, 'get in here.' Your hearing defective or something?"

Hesitantly, he climbed into the specially reinforced bed alongside her. It really didn't matter where they were, or what position they were in, when he told her his secret, about how her father. Not long ago, they'd suffered the loss of Killer Moth, who had been murdered by Lucifer. But Omega had discovered that the body they retrieved from Lucifer's fortress was only a few days old. That meant it was—it had to be—a clone. So where was the real Killer Moth? "Alright. Now, what I need to tell you is-*" But she'd placed a finger across his mouth, effectively silencing him.

"Omega?"

"Mm? Yes?"

"I don't want to know this secret."

He looked at her, surprised. "But…it involves you, and, and I think you need to know…"

"I already know it's scaring the hell outta you, just because of the reaction you think it might have on me. I know you think it's something that'll come between us, maybe break us up or something. I don't need to know any more.

"Because I don't want us to break up. No matter what, I'm determined that you're gonna be Mr. Kitten Van Cleer. Anything that gets in the way of that, I don't need."

"But this is something that-*"

She laid her head against his chest. "Hush. I don't need to know. Just…don't tell me. Okay? I'm serious. Don't tell me. Ever."

"I…alright, Kitten. I won't tell you. I'll lock the information away in my mind." He turned to her, utter seriousness in his eyes. "Are you absolutely sure, though?"

She kissed him. "I'm sure. Now, since we're already here…"

….

Athena was down in Omega's lab, working on the control module for the hypercrystal, when Blackfire joined her. "So that's it? The thing that has everybody in an uproar?"

"Yes. This crystal is not stable in our eleven-dimensioned reality, and corrects this instability by extruding a portion of itself into higher dimensions, dimensions not observable by the normal senses. Because it does so, we can make use of it to effect changes on our level of reality."

"Hm. So what are you two trying to do with it, anyway? Or should I ask that question?" She looked around, searching for listening devices.

"You needn't worry about bugs. Omega and I found several, but," and here she smiled coldly, "a little creative reprogramming served to render them harmless to us. And Raven has detected no magical scrying spells in action."

"Well, good. I was worried. So…what are you two planning to do with this thing, anyway?"

"We hope to be able to restore the fabric, as it were, of reality around us. According to the Entity, and our own observations, that fabric, for lack of a better term, is becoming…frayed. Weakened, seriously. It does not take much to pull an old garment apart; the same holds true for our universe. But perhaps it can be rejuvenated. But, Blackfire…there is great danger." She paused in her work and turned to her lover. "We must be extraordinarily careful in such a process. It isn't automatic. We must be careful not to, to _change_ the structure of reality itself."

Blackfire's eyes widened. "I hadn't thought about that, I'm ashamed to say. Yeah, you could 're-weave' the universe…but different. Maybe on a small level, but…" She paused, looking at the crystal with newfound respect…and fear. This object could remake all reality into something very different. Did they really know what they were doing? "So…how do you avoid that?"

"So far, our plans—for we have come no farther—are to model the restructured universal substrate on the existing one. The only catch is, the existing one is undergoing significant changes. We don't need to reproduce that."

"Well, _yeah._"

"So we're…working 'slowly but surely,' as the Earth saying goes." She turned and smiled at the Tameranean girl. "It is a good thing we have the processing power of the Kindred's computers to aid us. Otherwise, I'm fairly certain we couldn't do it."

Blackfire was tired of thinking about the hypercrystal just then. She'd actually come down here for something else, something totally different, but nonetheless important. "'Thena, what do you see as happening? With the Justice League, I mean?"

"War," Athena answered immediately. "I am certain they are even now laying the groundworks for an assault upon our Tower, with the possibility of simultaneous covert action. Just like the Titans did in Markovia, when Terra was kidnapped by her father. This is far more important, and they've already ascertained that we will not give up the crystal voluntarily."

Blackfire felt cold. "Isn't there some way to avoid that? I mean, let's face it: the League has us outgunned."

"Of course there is. We can simply surrender. Give them the hypercrystal, all our notes, and let them take it from there. There might be reprisals for taking unauthorized action, but total war would be avoided. And then they would have to learn about the crystal, how it works, and experiment with it on their own, quite possibly to the detriment of all that is."

Komi grimaced. "Not that, either. There's no other way?"

Athena was shaking her head. "It is much the same here as it was with the Lords of Osira. They, too, sought control, total and complete. At first, this was no bad thing. But when the desire for control overrode everything else, and began to negatively impact Osiran life and the lives of those under us, it began to destroy the Empire from within.

"And, really, what were the Lords to do? Abdicate? Tell the multitudinous peoples under them, 'well, sorry, but you're on your own from here on out'? Komi, they couldn't do that. Any more than the League can just dissolve itself, its members retiring, and let humanity fight the forces of evil and injustice on their own. For whether they realize it or not, they have become, in many major respects, the _de facto_ rulers of this world. After all," she shrugged, "they may make a show of answering to the United States government, or the United Nations, but, in the end, they choose their course of action on their own." She sighed. "War was the only thing left. _Is_ the only thing left. For we have suddenly become a power to rival their own, something I'm sure they never foresaw. No matter how beneficent and just they may be, they cannot tolerate us. Especially when it comes to making such far-ranging decisions.

"It won't be a difficult decision to make. They are aware of Raven's communication with the Entity. No doubt many of them think she has been suborned by the creature, that her will is no longer her own, that she is the puppet of an extra universal monster who intends to batten himself on all that is. And we, of course, have been likewise enthralled; we do the bidding of the Entity, and the Entity alone. So they have to fight us, in order to save us from ourselves."

Blackfire shivered. It all made too much sense. "But…but what can we do? I mean, they're the _Justice League_, for X'hal's sake!"

"We do what anyone in such a position would do. We stall for time, and use that time to consolidate our strengths.

"And identify our allies."

_To be continued..._


	21. Chapter 21: Doubts

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: Chapter 21: Doubts

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Please read and review! Thank you!_

…_._

Chapter 21: Doubts

On a mountaintop in the middle of Tibet, far removed from the domains of man, and in an area beyond what would be survivable to most humans:

Rorek of Nol was astonished to see the large black airship sitting quietly in the middle of the blowing snow. He was even more surprised to see the tall, dark-garbed man standing beside it, looking right at him. Apparently waiting for him. How could he be here?

He was at once on his guard, testing the area. No mystical spells, no harmful magics. No magics at all, in fact. That left just the tall man in black. Waiting for him.

He approached. "Were I to guess, I would say you seem to be looking for me. Unless there is another in this region, and I came here because there was not."

The intruder grunted. "You're right. I came here to see you…Rorek of Nol."

"You know my name." _But not my truename. Good._ "Yet we've never met."

"I am called Batman. I work with a collection of beings who see to the safety and security of the world in general. We are known as the 'Justice League United,' and are known popularly as 'superheroes.'"

"I see. And to what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"You recently fought an enhanced power being, a human / demon hybrid known as _Raven._"

Rorek kept himself from wincing. "I did. What of it?"

"It did not go well for you."

Rorek said nothing. What was the point of all this?

The tall man seemed to read his thoughts. "Raven had those about her who would come to her defense, as you found out. A single attacker, no matter how powerful, always has the disadvantage in such a case."

"Is there a point to all this?"

"Only this: you, too, can have allies who would come to _your_ assistance the next time you do battle with her. Do you not think that would only make logical sense?"

Rorek's eyes narrowed above his mask, which he always wore, as did all the warrior wizards of his clan. "Yes…"

"I sense distrust in you. That is wise. So I will tell you two things.

"One, you have a tracking device placed on your back, in the exact center of it, right where you cannot reach with your hands. It has been there ever since your last battle with Raven and her group."

"_What?_ How…?" Then he collected himself, and used his magics to form a brief concussive spell around his skin. Sure enough, he turned around and there, upon the snow, was a dark object. Rather than bending over to pick it up, he used his magics to levitate it into his grasp. "Is this how you found me?"

"No. The device has been inactive for some time now. Magic and technology don't mix very well. But it was working up until a week ago."

"So who placed…? Oh, of course."

"Yes. They've been monitoring you ever since your last battle with them."

Rorek paused, thinking. "Then why have they not attacked? They've had plenty of opportunity…and I was unaware of their knowledge of my whereabouts…."

"The second bit of information that I have comes with a price."

Eyes narrowed. "What is the price?"

"I need to know who you are working for."

"Why should I tell you?"

"I need to know because a war is coming. A war between Raven's group and my own. I need to know who you are working for, because only that will tell me which side you can be counted upon to fight."

"Why should I fight on either side? I only wish to depose the demoness, and try to undo as much of the damage as she's already done. I've no interest in other agendas."

"Because you've been lied to, simply put. War is coming, between our group and Raven's…but not for the reasons you think. And in order for you to be effective, no matter which side you choose, you must know the truth."

"Suppose I choose neither side?"

"You will."

Rorek thought for a moment. Then, "You say I've been lied to. You seem inordinately sure of this. What, then, assuming you know so much, have I been told?"

"Without having heard the exact words, I would say you've been told that Raven has set herself up as ruler of the area in which you encountered her, and has enthralled others to serve as her unwilling slaves. You've been told that she lives in splendor, while her subjects toil endlessly, to make her way of life possible. That they work unceasingly under constant threat of death or torture. That she has selected certain ones to serve as her elite bodyguard, and has altered them in certain horrible ways—those that needed altering. Others she simply hypnotized into her service. Am I close?"

Rorek said nothing. That was uncomfortably close to what he'd been told by the tall woman with the streaks in her hair, and the face within the crimson flame.

"And you were shown proof. Images of men and women in iron collars, laboring endlessly in mines or factories, overseen by demons or monsters of some sort, with some being taken out and…made examples of, to the others. As an incentive, to keep working. And their children, kept hostage to their good behavior."

"How can you know these things? I sense nothing of the magical about you."

Grunt. "I don't need magic to know how such lies go. You're basically a good man, Rorek, who once fought a powerful dragon to save others. Now you're being called upon to face down another evil being. Except doesn't it strike you as odd, that this 'evil being' is so _stereotypically_ evil? Pretty much an amalgamation of all the evil beings you've ever fought, heard of, or even imagined?"

"You're saying," Rorek said, slowly, "that I'm being used."

"I'm saying use your own magical senses to determine the truth. You have your own ways of finding out about how the world really is…use them. See if this 'Raven' is the monster you've been told. If so, then continue on your present course. But if not…"

"You said earlier that your group was likely to come into conflict with Raven's group. Why are you now telling me all this?"

"In order for you to be effective on either side, you have to know the truth. Lies serve only those who've lied to you." The man in black turned back towards his aerial craft. "When you've determined the truth, if you bother to, come to Gotham City, USA." He smiled grimly over his shoulder. "_I'll_ find _you._"

"Wait!" said Rorek as the dark man climbed back into his craft. "You said you had two pieces of information for me. What was the other?"

"I told you it came with a price." Another grim smile. "You haven't paid for it, yet."

…..

The process of contacting the other groups of Titans went slowly by. Raven and Hank, empath and telepath, were the ones who did this, seeking out those whom they knew and had already dealt with. Sadly, even among those, there were many unwilling to side with the Titans against the Justice League. "I just don't see how I can," replied Hot Spot. "What you're asking is almost tantamount to, to_ mutiny._ Of a sort."

"What we're talking about is if the Justice League attacks _us._ We've no plans to initiate conflict."

Hot Spot was still shaking his head. Hank felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. Hot Spot had been one they'd been hoping would be most sympathetic to their cause. "I'd…really have to think about it. Long and hard." But they could both read the refusal.

"Well, we understand if you feel like you can't. We know we're asking a lot here; most of us have grown up in the shadow of the Justice League, with them as our guides, our personal heroes. It's understandable you'd be…hesitant."

"I won't say yes and I won't say no, not right now. Let me think on the matter." And he broke communication.

Titans' London: Red Star, Argent, and Jericho were crowded into the smallish communication room. "You are sure these communications are secure?" Red Star asked.

"As sure as Kindred science can make them. And that's pretty secure."

Red Star grunted. "You ask us to side with aliens against heroes. You ask much."

"No. We ask you to side with us, should matters come to that. The 'aliens' have chosen to side with _us._"

"Never mind about all _that,_" broke in Argent, "We assume you wouldn't side with them, or vice versa, unless they were pretty much on the same wavelength as you are…but you're still asking a lot."

"We know. And we sincerely hope nothing ever comes of all this, that we are merely overimagining things. But we are trying to prepare for a very real possibility…the possibility that we may have to go up against the most powerful group of beings on the planet. For the survival of all."

"We received your report on this 'hypercrystal,' and why you are trying to learn how to use it. Is it really as desperate as all that? After all, we've seen no signs of universal collapse…except for those monsters, I mean. But there could be lots of explanations for them."

"We're forwarding you all the information we have on the matter. It's the same information we gave to the League, actually. There's really no actual 'proof' we can supply that indicates what we say is true, you understand; oh, there are reams and reams of mathematics, but not many people can make much sense out of all that. _I _certainly can't. It's yours for the asking. It will tell you much the same as we are saying: our universe is coming apart at the seams. Unless we can find a way to repair it—and we are by no means sure we can in time—we only have two remaining courses of action left to us: die, or…"

"…Become part of this Entity you spoke of."

"I would not do this," said Red Star, folding his arms across his chest, a look of resolution on his face. "I would remain my own person. To the end."

Raven shrugged. "If that is your wish, I'm told the Entity will honor it. He has made the matter a personal and individual choice for all humans who are aware of the situation, and of its seriousness. And he admits, as I have told you, that assimilation is permanent. Once assimilated, there is no going back. From what he tells me, and from what I have observed myself, this would be undesirable in any case.

"But once dead, there is also no going back."

"So…" began Argent delicately, "you, yourself, would opt for this…this process? This…postphysicality, I suppose you might call it?"

Hank took Raven's hand. "We would," he said, with firmness.

….

Rorek was mightily confused.

In the day and age from whence he'd come, things had been much simpler. There was good that was largely obvious, and evil that was, if anything, even more obvious. Nothing had prepared him for these shades of gray. In this day and age, there were those most often pronounced "heroes" who frequently acted in a very unheroic (by Rorek's standards) way, and those labeled villains who occasionally exhibited noble tendencies. And then there were those who could go either way.

Take this "Raven," for example. There were records, unreliable, it was true, and largely anecdotal, which stated she'd once menaced the entire Earth, threatening it with a more than mortal terror. Yet these same records also agreed that she'd played a pivotal role in reversing the process, and restoring the world to its natural state. Who to believe?

But why believe either to the exclusion of the other? History was filled with legends of those who'd made mistakes and learned from them, even as it was with those who'd fallen from the light into darkness. It was entirely possible that both records were equally right.

So what to do?

It would have been far less confusing had the tall brown haired woman with the touch of the arctic cold upon her, or the face in the crimson flame, had reappeared and demanded an answer from him, perhaps seeking to compel a certain required response. That would have made his decision so much simpler and easier. No doubt they both had unpleasant means of compelling, or attempting to compel him—just as he had unpleasant ways of preventing himself from being so compelled. But they could hardly be aware of that.

Of course, if they sought to confuse him further, they were certainly doing a splendid job of it so far.

So perhaps he needed to seek them out, and resolve that confusion.

….

"How goes it?" Kitten asked Omega, as he came in from another day. Neither he nor Athena really needed to rest, physically, but he recognized the need, occasionally, to take a very human-like break. It often made one's mental processes work a little better.

Plus, he now had more than just himself or another Osiran, one who's needs needed to be considered. Not just physical ones, either.

"Slowly. We have to 'back-engineer,' I suppose you'd say, the structural nature of reality, and attempt to 're-weave' that structure from the quantum substrate. That is not proving as easily done as said."

"What about the Osiran probe, the one that first came here? It was supposed to reconfigure the entire universe…wouldn't something like that solve the problem?"

"In this case, no. Given the failing nature of reality, were we to attempt to engineer such as solution, reality would probably just dissolve. It simply wouldn't work. In a young, strong, structurally sound universe, that wouldn't be the case…"

"…But we're trying to turn an old man into a young man. Right. I see. You'd have to reverse so much…and there'd be no guarantee you'd get the desired result. You could end up with a huge mistake. Like, like a cancer. Only for the universe."

"Exactly. And we live here, in that 'man's body. We wouldn't have another chance to try anything else." He paused. "How goes matters from your end?"

She sat back and blew her blond bangs out of her face. "Like crap. We're not getting anywhere near the positive response I was hoping for. I mean, I knew we'd be fighting an uphill battle, but I had hoped we'd get _some_ positives. But so far, we only have, at best, a handful who've indicated they _might_ stand by us. Operative word, 'might.' And, and I can't shake the notion even they might not, were matters to…come to a head."

He sat forward in his chair, his face in his hands. "Kitten…maybe we're going about this the wrong way."

"What do you mean?"

"We're asking these young people to, as they see it, go up against the good guys. By definition, that automatically makes them the bad guys. Doesn't it? I mean, most people, especially, let's face it, most young, idealistic people, who tend to gravitate to this line of work, like to see themselves as the good guys. Now…how can they really see it any other way? They aren't personally involved in this, the way we are." He sat back, crossing his legs, and, once again, chewing on a knuckle, a habit he'd picked up from Robin.

_Who picked it up from Bats,_ thought Kitten. Was there no end to the entanglements between them all?

Of course there was.

"So what are you thinking?" She knew him well enough to know something was on his mind.

"I wonder…" He stopped, paused for a long, long moment. "I wonder…if we are perhaps overlooking the obvious."

"The obvious…what?"

Another long pause. Presently, he said, "Kitten, you do know we are talking about sheer survival here, correct?"

"Well, _yeah…_"

"And we are trying to find a way around the Entity's offer of assimilation, no? We wish, at least for now, to survive as single individuals."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, turning her head a bit suspiciously. "Yes…" What was he getting at?

Hesitancy on his part. "We…have, at our…availability, let's just say…the means to summon all the raw physical power we need. More than enough to subdue the entire Justice League. More than enough. At a price."

Her eyes widened as she saw what he was getting at. "Omega, _no!_ You can't possibly be thinking about…that! No! You've already done so much to avoid…that! You couldn't!"

"It…was only a thought, Kitten. But we _could_ negotiate a, a treaty with the Osirans. True, Earth would become a vassal state of their Empire, but we would be _alive._ And, and really…from what I and Athena observed, matters in the Empire, currently, are not so…malevolent and draconian as we remember them." He saw her expression. "Oh, I'm not seriously contemplating it! It was just a thought that…crossed my mind." He smiled at her. "Kitten, I know there are things more important than mere life. I would not be so desperate as to bring everything we've worked so hard for crashing down. That would be tantamount to, to cowardice on my part. Simply to live is not enough, not enough for me, at least. But…I confess, I would like to give…others the _opportunity_ to make that decision. To survive_. _ Or not."

"Omega, this is serious. I want you to promise me, right now, you won't contact the Osirans without checking with me or the others first. 'Cause if you do, you'll be doing the very thing the League thinks we're doing now…giving the entire human race away." Her expression couldn't be more serious.

He got up and came over to her chair, kneeling down in front of her, taking her hand. "I promise, Kitten. I promise."

He looked up at her, looking into her eyes very soberly, and she accepted his word as his bond. Which it was, of course. With her, at least.

Just as he'd hoped.

Just as he'd planned.

_Forgive me, Kitten._

_To be continued._


	22. Chapter 22: Destinies

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 22: Destinies

Titans' Tower: Raven had called a meeting that evening to go over the events of the day. They were, to put it mildly, discouraging.

"I wonder," Blackfire began, "if maybe we shouldn't reach out to the villains. At least we wouldn't be getting the resistance we're encountering."

"But could we trust them? Keep in mind, we're talking about tremendous power here, the power to literally remake all reality. That's the very thing many of the upper-level villains have sought, all along. Those that haven't, simply haven't thought it was possible before. Now here's the reality of it. And, let's face it, in light of that, what we'd be asking of them is basically for them to be cannon fodder, to go up against the League in our place. They'd have no share in the victory, we wouldn't dare—assuming we are victorious, even." Raven shook her head. "No. We can't, in good conscience, ask them to do that. Athena, have you those projections I asked you about?"

"Yes. It's quite possible we'll see some action within a week to ten days. The only reason we haven't so far is, the League is uncertain just how much control over the crystal we already have, and perhaps certain elements within their ranks who do not wish to initiate open hostilities with us so…readily. Many of them seek a more diplomatic solution. It's common knowledge that Superman does. Many are siding with him."

"What about Batman?"

"No information either way."

"As expected." Raven rubbed her eyes. "Then I've a call to make."

Ten minutes later: Raven was alone in the communication chamber, placing a high-level call on a very special frequency. At first, she wondered if there'd even be an answer, but then the screen lit up.

Batman's image filled the screen, seeming to look down upon her. The backdrop was of the Batcave, of course. Raven wondered if that was where he really was or if that was merely a standard backdrop he used for all such communication. "Raven." No hellos, no polite exchanges. He had no time for such things. In truth, neither did she.

"Batman." She inclined her head towards him. "We seem to be having a bit of a quandary here."

"One of us is."

"I called to ask for your help."

That actually elicited a raised eyebrow, barely visible behind his mask, which normally obscured his upper face. "Did you?"

"Yes. I'm sure you know we've been reaching out to other Titans' groups, seeking those who would help us in the event of an attack by the League. An attack we both know is coming. And I'm also sure you are aware of our lack of success."

"And you wish _my_ help? Me, personally?"

"Actually, I'm asking your advice. You've had time to go over the contents of the files we uploaded to the League's computers. If anyone in the League can understand them, of course, that someone would be you. I say this with no attempt at flattery; we both know that would be futile."

"And?"

"I would like to ask you what you think we should do."

"No. You want to know what I'd do, in a similar circumstance."

"There's a difference?"

"The _obvious_ answer is for you to turn the crystal over to the League, along with all your research material. Your Omega can continue his work with it from the safety and security of the Watchtower, with the added benefit of the League's resources—physical and intellectual-at his command."

"I note you didn't say, 'turn the crystal over to _us_.'"

Narrowed eyes. "That is, as I have said, the obvious answer. I did not say it was mine."

"Answer me this, and straightly: would _you_ trust the League with the power to remake all that is? For that matter, would you trust anyone?"

"Your question is its own answer."

She blew out a sigh. "That's what I was afraid of. So…I suppose what it comes down to is, my answers lie elsewhere." She gathered herself, not even bothering to try to "read" him. It was a dead solid certainty he'd not answered this call without some means of blocking her empathic power, and, frankly, she was tired of this constant subterfuge. It wasn't logical to expect anyone else, especially those who fought other powerful beings, to truly accept another such group on anything like an equal level. It many ways, it was reminiscent of the Cold War. Both sides had great power, but neither side used it.

That didn't mean neither side _couldn't_. Or that either side could take the chance that the other _wouldn't_.

"Raven?"

"Hm?" She was startled to hear him actually initiate a sentence. "Yes?"

He studied her a moment. Then, "Be sure your answers don't _lie._" And with that, he broke the connection.

….

The Watchtower: 0700 hours: The core members of the League, and all the other members who could, had assembled in the main briefing hall. Those heroes who could not, for some reason, be physically present were displayed on monitor screens arrayed around the room. "You all know why I've called this meeting," J'onn J'onzz began. "I doubt any of you are unaware of the crisis we face. The Titans have, at their disposal, an artifact of unbelievable power. They state their intentions are to endeavor to restore the universe to, if not something close to its original state, at least one we can live in. They themselves have doubts as to whether or not they will succeed.

"And they have powerful allies. These 'Kindred,' of whom we have been apprised, apparently control technology beyond anything on Earth…and in that, I include both Mars and Krypton." Superman inclined his head in acknowledgement. It was true. "This…complicates matters."

"So…what are we actually proposing here?" Aquaman was teleconferencing from Atlantis, and his words were slightly garbled by the water in which he moved and lived.

"The Titans have come into possession of something powerful enough to remake all reality. Basically, what do we want to do about that?"

There was murmuring all around the room, from both those physically there and those present by monitor. Then Stargirl spoke up. "Wait. Are we talking about…like, _military_ action against the Titans? Is that what we're contemplating here?"

"I'm afraid so. We know they won't surrender the crystal voluntarily. They say it's because their work with it cannot be interrupted. And the truth is, they may easily be telling the truth. They may have no ulterior motives.

"What it boils down to is trust. Do we trust them? Or not? And, if not, what do we do?"

More murmuring. Then Superman spoke up. "J'onn…we're not talking about some renegade band of super beings here. We _know_ these kids. And they are kids, even now. In the past, they've fought alongside of us, and we never said a word. We accepted their help then, often gratefully. Now…yes, they've acquired a powerful device. It _could_ be used as a weapon. But from what we've determined ourselves, these Kindred could easily have turned at least half the globe into their own personal playground—and done it long ago.

"_But they didn't._ And they didn't, not because of any agreements they had with us, or any sense of adherence to our law, but _because of their relationship to the Titans._ So, actually, we've trusted them in the past. The only difference this time is the degree."

J'onn nodded. "Good points, and noted. But they have been endeavoring to rally support for themselves from other Titans' groups. That, in itself, is…ominous."

"Or not," said Wonder Woman. "If they planned to use the crystal against us, what would they need allies for?"

"Another good point."

"Wait." The Atomic Knight signaled. "We can't ignore that the Titans are now under the control of Raven, who's allegiance is, let's face it,…subject to question. She does have that demonic heritage. Dr. Fate? What's your take on that?"

Fate steepled his fingers on the table in front of him. "Demons' minds are often so convoluted they may not know themselves what truly motivates them. But one overriding goal is common: the desire for power. Expansion of territory. Human goals, too, but in demons, they are manifested to a higher degree. And they are ruthless, more so than humans.

"So the question you are asking is, do we trust Raven's human side? Humans can be notoriously untrustworthy, too. Or do we trust her demonic side? Demons will act in their own defense, or in the defense of their goals. And sometimes, those goals may coincide with humanity's."

The Atomic Knight looked a little disgusted. "You took a long time to say, 'I don't know.'"

"On the contrary. I _do_ know. Like it or not, as Superman says, we've already trusted them in many ways. And they have the crystal, after all, and, very probably, some potent means of preventing its removal."

"But do we let this state of affairs continue?"

Wonder Woman spoke up again. "Look, I know Donna Troy, Wonder Girl. Maybe I can contact her. Perhaps she would be willing to serve as a liaison between our groups."

"A liaison?"

"J'onn, you could cut the tension here with a knife. Unless we do something to establish some diplomatic communication with the Titans, we will end up fighting them. And, to me, that's almost like fighting our own children."

Batman spoke up for the first time. "There's another matter none of us are thinking of. The elephant in the room. Omega stole this crystal from the Osirans, whose level of development is quite a bit beyond anything we've faced thus far. It may exceed Apokolips', if all reports are accurate." The others looked alarmed, muttered among themselves. The only reason Apokolips had never successfully invaded Earth was due to the treaty they had with New Genesis. In many cases, the heroes had beaten Darkseid and his troops off, but many realized this had been due as much to luck as to strength and tactics. Apokolips' space fleet had been vast, its technology far in advance of anything in Earth's experience, and its technologically-enhanced parademon army numbering at least in the millions.

New Osira, from the reports they had, both from Omega and other sources, evidently had overwhelming forces as well. Their warriors were the equal of Krytonians—some believed they might be the "parent" race to the Kryptonians and Daxamites, though there was no proof of this—extremely well-trained in hand-to-hand and space, air and ground battle tactics, utterly subservient to the Lords, and loyal unto death. Their Thinkers, ancestors of the Kindred, had been the ones to come up with this reality-warping, and possibly reality creating—technology, and had, at their disposal, resources of completely unknown extent. And then there were the Lords themselves.

By all accounts, the Lords of Osira had a powerful, well-nigh irresistible mental power, a power not limited to Osirans. One single Lord could, in theory, enthrall any number of human beings. How strong a mind would it take to resist their influence? No one knew. Would magic work? Again, no one knew.

"He stole this crystal from them. Do we know for a certainty that they had no means of tracking him?"

"We, of course, cannot know this," replied, J'onn, "But I fail to see why you bring it up at this juncture."

"If indeed the Osirans were to show up at our front door, as it were, our only source of intel about them is Omega—and this 'Athena' we've heard of. It might be unwise to alienate them, at this point, until we know more."

"You're saying we should do nothing."

"I'm counseling caution." He smile a slight, somewhat predatory smile. "I didn't say do nothing."

….

The hour was late. Hank signaled on Raven's door. "Rae? You might wanna come to the main comm room."

"Why, what is it, Hank?" Yawning.

"Ah, it's best if you see this for yourself." She threw on her robe and followed him to the communications room, noting that Blackfire and Athena were already there. What was going on?

The screen, which was already on, displayed a scene from one of the H.I.V.E.'s bases of operation. Jinx and Kid Flash were standing with Gizmo, Control Freak, Johnny Rancid, Billy Numerous, Kyd Wykkyd, Angel, Private HIVE, and Mammoth. "Hey, Raven," said Jinx. "Sorry for the late night call, but me and the others, we got something we wanna say." Raven's eyebrows rose. She had a hint as to what they were going to say, but couldn't quite bring herself to believe it…

"I explained the whole mess to the others, and we all agreed: we're in this. I know we're the 'bad guys,' an' all that—"

"You're not bad," muttered Kid Flash, barely loud enough for them to hear him.

"Well, anyway…we're in this. On your side. If you still need the help, I mean."

Totally unexpected. "Well, yes, we can certainly use and will definitely appreciate the help. But please understand: we could find ourselves facing down the entire Justice League, with all their powers and resources. Even with your help, there's no reason to think we'd actually win."

"Win, schmin," said Johnny Rancid, slamming a fist into his palm. "I don't care if we win or lose. _I_ just want the chance to kick some hero _ass._"

Over the next few hours, several more groups began to call in. "Red Star still says he definitely won't go for the whole assimilation thing," explained Argent, "but in everything else, he's standing with us." Jericho, silent as always, signaled his assent, as well.

Before they'd even gotten off the line, another call came in. "I know I was hesitant earlier," said Hot Spot, "But I can't turn my back on you guys. When I needed you, you were there. So now," he gulped audibly, "I'm gonna be there, too." Pause. "Do—do you really think we've a chance?"

Raven glanced at Hank. "We don't know. We've…received offers of support from other groups since we spoke with you, but… I'll say this: If you have doubts, any doubts at all, it might be better to hold off on declaring yourself for either side. This…could get…ugly. Very ugly."

He shook his head. "This isn't about self-preservation, Raven. Oh, well, I mean, it sorta is, but not like that. This is about doing what's right, and standing by those who stood by you. It's about destiny." He sighed. This had obviously not been an easy decision on his part. "And my destiny lies with you, with the Titans. But, uh, this doesn't mean I've signed up for the Assimilation Olympics, does it?"

Raven smiled a very small smile. "No. The Entity had made it clear that he'll leave that up to individuals. Your decision there is your own to choose."

"Well, good. I mean, I was worried there…"

"Don't be. That's a separate decision. I'll share with you what I know about the process and about the Entity, but the final choice has to be yours."

…..

As she and Hank left the comm room, she walked with her hands behind her back, thoughtfully.

"Looking better," mused Hank.

"Yes." But she seemed pensive. "I haven't consulted the Orb yet…but we'll have to maneuver matters so the Hunters aren't forced to choose sides."

"You really think we'll lose, don't you?"

She tilted her head back, gazing up at the ceiling with her eyes shut. "Maybe it's my pessimistic nature…but… Hank, this could tear this whole world apart. Physically. I mean the entire thing. I…I can't help but wonder if we shouldn't just turn the whole matter over to the League anyway, let them deal with it."

"Would they have time?"

"No. Which means I'm only looking for the easy way out. I can't say there's any love lost between the League and me personally; I know some—many—of them don't trust me." She sighed. "I suppose I can't blame them a great deal. But in this, I am one hundred percent on humanity's side. Making them believe that…won't be easy. And in some cases, it may be impossible."

He stopped with her there, in the corridor, the curving window displaying the twinkling lights of the city out beyond them. "I know. But there's no helping that. How could you prove your good intentions? I don't know of one. Not one that would work, I mean." He half-sat against the guardrail, crossing his arms, and looking at the floor. "You know…there's another matter, too. Coming up."

She nodded. "Robin and Starfire are coming back from their honeymoon. I can just imagine his reaction to all this."

"He's gonna. Freak. Out."

"To put it mildly. Our last communication with him…was before Omega and Athena came back from their mission. I don't think either of them's aware of just how serious things have become. We told them about the possibility of the quantivores, but not about their attack on us. Or Typhon's assistance. Or…the crystal, and the quandary that choice has given us." Another sigh. "As you say, he'll completely lose it. I can just see him blaming me for starting a war with the Justice League. And he may be right. Maybe there was another way…maybe he has a better idea. It would be such a relief if he did…"

"Raven." His serious tone of voice caught her attention. "Whether or not Robin has a 'better idea' or not isn't the point. _You are our leader._"

"Until he gets back."

"Even then. I've spoken with the others." She looked at him in surprise. "Yes, I did. The very _worst_ thing that could happen would be for Robin to return and try to resume command. It would be a complete disaster."

He shifted, sitting against the rail, turning his body to face her."What I'm trying to tell you is this: even if Robin comes back, and even if he's horrified with the situation, and _even if_ he tries to resume control…we won't let him. This is your show, Raven. I'd say, 'for better or for worse,' but if I truly thought it'd be for worse, well, I wouldn't be supporting you now. I do have that much backbone."

She was shaking her head. "Hank…that's all very nice, but, but it could tear the Titans apart. I mean, there's those who'd follow Robin, and then there's those-*"

He stood up and put a finger across her lips. "And then there's those, like _all of us,_ who'll follow you. I know Robin's a leader, but _he left you in charge._ He doesn't have any right to suddenly pop back in here and start slinging orders right and left. That's just not the way it's done.

"And, to be honest, I think he's smart enough to know that."

She was silent for a moment, arms wrapped around herself, as though from the cold. "I hope you're right, Hank. I…I just don't want this to, to _divide_ us. I mean…we were…family." She couldn't get Trigon's words out of her head: "_**But I think you are unaware of just how much their war can cost you, what the effects of it can be upon you, and yours."**_

At the time, she hadn't. She hadn't even known, or had any inkling, what he was talking about.

"_**You yet retain too much mortality to fully comprehend the scope of their actions."**_ And what else had he said? _**"But this much I say, that you can comprehend: to you and your friends, I extend the offer of sanctuary, here in my domain."**_

Somehow that didn't seem so hilarious anymore.

Raven was a very strong person, but she'd never felt closer to cracking under the strain than right then. _What should she do?_

It must've showed in her face, because he wrapped his arms around her, and picked her up. "Come on. It's late, and you need your sleep."

"Thank you, Hank. I know I can always count on-*" But he carried her right past her room. "Uh, Hank?"

"You're staying with me tonight."

"Uh, Hank, I…" _Brilliant repartee, girl. Try again._

"I'll have Kitten bring some of your stuff down."

She shifted in his arms. "Uh, Hank? I, I really don't know about this…"

He kissed her. "Raven. You don't need to be alone right now. You've been alone too much as it is, already. Besides, I've seen your room, and nightmares take one look at it and run away screaming. I don't see how you sleep in there in the first place. Everything in there looks like it's about to come to life and pounce on you. So let's go with somewhere a little less threatening, okay? Just for tonight? Humor me?"

This elicited a small smile from her. "Less threatening, huh?"

Another kiss. "We'll save the pouncing for some other time."

Much later on, Raven would come to realize that she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she'd gone to sleep with a smile on her face. This was one of them.

_To be continued…_


	23. Chapter 23: Power Games

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 23: Power Games

….

_If anyone is under the illusion that I own the Teen Titans, rest assured that, if I did, the abomination called "Teen Titans Go," currently being depicted, would never have been._

_Please read and review._

…_.._

"Boy. I'll say one thing: that boom tube is WAY faster than any starship." Robin and Starfire had just emerged from the boom tube Omega had created for them in his basement laboratory. "Maybe not as scenic, but faster." The system of quantum gates wasn't quite finished, and, anyway, Omega felt this might be a better way of getting the two back to Earth as soon as possible. More difficult to trace, and probably more difficult to sabotage, as well.

He was alone with the two returned honeymooners. That was deliberate. He had one of the better poker faces. "On behalf of us all, I welcome you back. I trust your trip was…well, I know it was enjoyable, but you know what I mean."

"Oh, it was, 'Mega. It was. And, yes, to be honest, I guess I needed the rest. I never realized just how much of a burden command actually was." He looked around the laboratory, then looked up at the Osiran. "How's Raven holding up?"

"Well enough. Of course, she, too, has had some adjusting to do…but that is to be expected."

"True…"

"And, Starfire…" Omega turned to the Tameranean. "There is something I feel I must tell you. Your sister is now a full-fledged Titan, and has been practically ever since you left. I know how you feel about her," he raised his palm, to forestall her response, "but this is something I felt you needed to know, before…before the two of you…rejoined us."

Starfire was silent for a moment. Then, "I cannot say I did not see this in the coming. How…how has she been…as a Titan? I trust she is doing the well, yes?" Yet her voice and stance were cold as ice.

"She has done quite well. She and Athena have…found happiness together."

"Ah." Starfire's gaze turned to the floor. "I am…pleased by this turn of events. Where might she be found now?"

A brief hesitation. Robin shot a barely noticeable glance at his wife. "She is, as of this speaking, upstairs, in the room she shares with Athena."

Still speaking formally, Starfire drew herself together, in an almost regal way, and Omega was reminded again that the person in front of him was, after all, a princess of Tameran. "Might I go see her?"

"Er, Star…?"

"It is all of right, beloved. One merely wishes to check up on…old acquaintances." Abruptly Starfire smiled, albeit slightly. "There will be no hostilities."

After she'd left, Robin turned to Omega. "So," he said, rubbing his hands together briskly, "Tell me what's been going on."

Osirans don't sweat, but Omega felt the need to, right then.

…

Komi had a hunch who was signaling for entrance when Athena quickly crossed the small room and opened the door, making sure to stand between the caller and Blackfire. Looking over her shoulder, Blackfire could see the top of Kory's head, just outside the door. "Athena?" Kory spoke softly and formally. "Robin and I have just now returned. I wished to do the checking of up on you. How have you been?" She did not look at Komi while she spoke.

"Quite well, Starfire," Athena replied. She hadn't Linked to Omega just yet and so was unsure what the returnees had been told. "And yourself and Robin?"

"Quite well. It was a most…enjoyable time together." She paused, as though searching for the right words. "Might one speak with…your friend?"

Athena looked behind her, at Blackfire. "It's alright, Athena." _May as well get this over with_. She came up and faced her sister. "Hi, sis. Uh, look: if we're gonna fight, let's do it outside. The Tower still hasn't recovered from-*"

"There will be no fight. I merely wished to…see how…you…were doing." Kory spoke very calmly and formally, and her words seemed to lower the ambient temperature in the small room by at least ten degrees.

"Oh. Well, uh. Very well." Like Athena, Blackfire didn't know how much her sister had been told about the situation on Earth, and so wasn't sure what to say. "I, I hope you and Robin had a, a great time. I mean, I know it was a great time, but…an especially great time…"

"We did." Still there was nothing other than cold formality in Starfire's voice and mannerisms. "Perhaps more will be said about such matters at a later time. For now, that is all I wished to say." She turned to go, and Blackfire breathed a sigh of relief. Cinderblock attacking would have been less stressful.

Then Starfire half-turned back, and addressed Komi, her eyes downcast. "It is particularly gratifying for me to learn that…you, a recent arrival, such as I was many years ago…have been adjusting well to new surroundings and conditions, and is highly respected and well thought of by your peers." Now she turned fully to go. "Perhaps one has some thinking to do," she said, so softly as to be almost inaudible. And with that she disappeared down the corridor.

…

"Hoe. Lee. _God._" Robin was sitting at the breakfast table, holding his head in his hands. Raven, Hank, Cyborg, Kitten, and Omega were in attendance, with Hank, as usual, preparing breakfast, even though it was mid-morning, past the usual time for such. ("Hey, if I'm gonna face Armageddon, it _won't_ be on an empty stomach," he'd once told Raven. Raven wasn't sure if he meant the End of the Universe or Robin's reaction to the latest developments.) "Raven, I…I don't know what to say. I mean, I, I can't really see any way for things to be _worse."_

"Raven's done the best she could, Rob, and you know it." Cyborg's voice was soft but firm, like it usually was when he spoke from his heart. "Nobody else could have done better." _Including you, but I won't say it out loud._

Robin shook his head. Starfire had joined them, and was seated by him, hands folded in front of her, watching him with an expression of perfect calm. "That's as may be, Cy, but…my _God!_ The entire universe is literally coming unglued, we're facing the possible threat of invasion, and, to top it off, we're at war with the _Justice League?!_"

"Hostilities have not yet commenced," Omega said, "and it is possible they may not."

But Robin just shook his head. "That's what _you_ think. Hostilities _have_ commenced, you just haven't seen them yet. You didn't know what to look for." Hank had placed a platter of scrambled eggs, toast, sausage, and biscuits on the table in front of them. Some of them took some of the food on their individual plates…Hank was famous, among the Titans of Jump City, for being an especially good cook.

Robin, however, found he had no appetite. For a long, long moment he was silent, sitting there with his head in his hands. Then, "Look. Before we go any further, let me get the elephant in the room out of the way." He turned to Raven. "Raven, I'm not here to replace you, or, or…well, you know. I left you in charge, and that was to be permanent. So don't get the idea I'm here to, to take back Titans' leadership. I know that'd be a disaster. So don't go thinking that."

Raven nodded at him, eyes downcast, resting her elbows on the table. "Robin, let me evict another elephant in the room. I—make that _we_—will completely understand if you choose to stand with the Justice League. After all, your mentor, Batman, is Justice League, and, in fact, most of the 'Bat family' is Justice League. I never wanted to turn family members against other family members. For that matter, I never wanted _any_ of this."

Robin shook his head again. "Raven, that's a nice sentiment, but I'm seeing it as being more complicated than all that. I…given all that's gone on, I don't see how such battle-line drawing could've been avoided. And knowing Batman like I do…I'd bet dollars to doughnuts that he's got something up his sleeve, probably running in the background, not connected with either group." He thought for a minute. "Cy? What's been happening on the political front?"

"Huh? Political?"

"Yeah. Let me get my laptop…."

Shortly, he had completed several web searches, and seemed to find what he was looking for. "I _knew_ it. Look, everyone. Look at this." And he swiveled the screen to show them.

The reports thus displayed showed the activities of the House Ways and Means Committee, and several subcommittees, several dealing with the Patriot Act. "Take a look. Here's some groups calling for the registration of 'enhanced power beings,' i. e., us. And look: they're calling for a multi-tiered approach, with seniority, of course, going to those heroes established over time. I don't guess we really have to guess who _that_ means, now do we?

"But look here: we'd fall into this second tier. It's not that much of a hurdle, just some paperwork, really, more of a formality than anything serious, and no worse than what we already do, but…see this fine print? Not only would those in this group be answerable to the first tier—that's the League, of course-, but also to Patriot Act subcommittees. _And_ the Treasury. And _that's_ got Batman's fingerprints aaallll over it. Let's see about proving that…" He skimmed the document. "I was right. All this started less than a day after Athena and Omega got back with the crystal. He didn't waste any time." He sat back in the kitchen chair, arms crossed over his chest, while the others crowded around him. "You see what he's doing, don't you? He's playing both ends against the middle. He ties up the League somehow, delays any overt moves on their part, then sets up a system whereby we'd have to answer to so many other groups, we wouldn't have time to work on this universe thing. So that would _encourage_ us to turn it over to the League, or at least work with them, since they don't have all those hoops to jump through. Or, if we choose not to—and we'd have the choice, mind you—our every move would be under a microscope." He chewed on a knuckle. "Several microscopes.

"And no doubt the influence of the League _could_ help us cut through the red tape. But that would just tie us all the more to the League, not just legally, but psychologically. Before long, we wouldn't be thinking in terms of 'us' or 'them.' See? And in the whole process, he avoids bloodshed. Or, rather, offers everybody the chance to avoid bloodshed. Plus, another thing: adhering to this bill would effectively cut us off from the villains who've offered to support us. So there goes one resource, right there.

"And what would we do to counter it? Not much. It would be the law of the land, and we're supposed to uphold the law. So how would we argue our way out of that one?"

The others looked aghast. It was true. Batman was maneuvering everybody behind their backs. And there didn't seem to be any way out. While the League had only a minimal presence in the United Nations, the Titans had none whatsoever. Their affiliation with the JLU had always been sufficient.

As far as the U. S. government was concerned, the Titans were one committee's decision away from being, essentially, an outlaw group.

Robin noticed that Omega didn't look surprised. "You saw something like this coming, didn't you?"

The Osiran shifted slightly. He had to be careful around these fragile humans, lest a slight gesture on his part break a bone or tear soft flesh. "I…had a hunch, as you would say, that something along these lines would be tried. Your law is remarkably flexible and often obscure, and I've noticed it often can be manipulated into serving one to the detriment of another."

"I know you've been thinking about it. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Omega looked at him with a measure of amusement. "As you do not have access to the Link—yet—I've no way of knowing what you are thinking, but, from what I know of your thought processes, it is entirely possible that we are both, as the expression goes, 'on the same page.'" A grim expression adorned Robin's face. "And, like you, I wish I could think of something else."

"What?" asked Hank. "You mean you actually have some idea as to what we could do, to, to counter this?" The reports pouring in from Robin's laptop didn't look encouraging. The law was gaining support daily, as a populace that already feared super-powered individuals sought some means of protecting themselves….

….and a government that didn't trust them sought a means of control.

"In a manner of speaking." Omega looked at Robin. "Can I take it then, that you are standing with us in this matter?"

There was a long pause. Then, Robin nodded, sharply. "I don't see any other way around it. If we had more time, yeah, I'd probably stand with the League. I won't lie to you. But we don't, and this is…gonna tie things up. Really, it's forcing our hand, which is probably what he's trying to do, anyway." Another pause. "I just can't figure out _why._"

"Forcing our hand to do what, Rob?" Cyborg was completely puzzled.

Robin and Omega shared one last look. Then, Robin spoke up, his voice reflecting the solemnity of the occasion. "Declare ourselves a sovereign power."

_To be continued…_


	24. Chapter 24: Those Left Behind

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 24: Those Left Behind

...

_Time skip: 5 years into the future:_

_Shadows of things to come?_

_Character of Alice is used with permission by walkerjordan963. Thank you, Jordan!_

…

The island nation of Santos Almos wasn't at a state of high alert—in fact, it wasn't in any state of alert whatsoever—but it should've been. Not that it would have done any good whatsoever.

Down in what one may as well call her cell, Angela Marco's consciousness swam reluctantly back into her head. For the ten thousandth time, she was sorry it did.

"Hell" was a charitable way of describing Angela's current existence. In fact, had she been offered the chance for genuine Hell, with devils, pitchforks, and flames, she would have opted for that in a heartbeat.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually felt, not just good, but even _endurable_. Not only did she have aches and pains no one so young as she should have, there was the sheer psychic agony of drug addiction.

People who have never suffered drug addiction have no idea what it is like. It's not a craving—that would be easy, by comparison—it can be more aptly described as a _longing_, a longing for a state of existence forever denied her, and worse, that she _knew_ was forever denied her. A state of feeling _good._ But a state she knew she'd never again attain.

Knowing you can _never again_ feel _that way_, and, worse, knowing that only worse awaits you when you run out of the drug that alone makes life anywhere near bearable produces a kind of depression unknown to those who've never experienced it. The _longing _without _wanting._ And you know that depression, that awful _feeling,_ is the only thing you'll have, from there on out. Your constant companion.

You have to go to hell to understand what hell is like.

But even that wasn't all. Aside from the batterings, the rapes, the bruises, the broken bones, the beatings she'd suffered—those were small change compared to what really tormented her.

For, in a moment of weakness, a supremely awful moment that would always be before her eyes like a horror movie that keeps playing, no matter how much you want it to stop, she'd given away the very best thing in her whole life: her daughter.

She'd given her away to pedophiles to pay for her drug habit. _Why_ had she done that? Well, of course, she knew why. That was the only thing about her whole addled life that she _did_ understand.

So now, every sober moment was torment to her. No sooner did she realize that she was awake, and not dreaming the same nightmare all over again, but that she began hunting around for her ever-dwindling supply of drugs….

She was out. _Oh, no!_ Now there was no release from the torment her life had become.

Five thousand feet overhead: Control Freak sat at the controls of the hyperjet that had flown them out here from the mainland. "You're sure we're undetected?" Angelique was keyed to the max. It was imperative that _nothing_ go wrong with this operation.

"'Course. See those lights?" He pointed to an array of LEDs along the top of the panel. "In order for us to be detected, some sort of energy would have to strike us, and be reflected back. And that would light up one or more of those lights. And you see they're all dark. So, yeah, 'zero dark thirty'—that's us. Besides. You'd sense 'em anyway."

"Good. I don't want those—_people,_" she said, clearly wishing to use another word, "to have any warning whatsoever. Until it's too late."

"It's _already_ too late. For them." He glanced up. "Position in five…four…three…get ready…go." Ghost, Deena, Alice, Angelique, and Gizmo teleported down to the ground.

They found themselves on what appeared to be a deserted but fully functional military airfield. They could hear the relaxed murmur of off-duty soldiers coming from the barracks. It was around midnight, and while this was a military airstrip, and security (what there was of it) was in place, the sentries weren't due back for another half-hour. And they were within the electronic perimeter of the relatively primitive security system, and so had the time to go unnoticed—for a bit. Plenty of time.

Angelique took charge. "Ghost, fry their electronics. Deena, find out where my mom's being held, and relay that information to me. Then I need you to run point defense around her; see to it that _no_body and nothing gets close to her but me. Gizmo, take out their armor and air support. Alice, you take lookout. Slice up anything threatening. Gizmo, you back me up."

"Got it."

"Check."

"Okay."

"I'm on it." Ghost turned to Angelique. "What about you?"

Angelique smiled a smile that would have made a tiger nervous, already morphing her arms into cannon. "I'm goin' in."

Gizmo clicked two wristbands together. "Proteus armor!" Immediately the force-saturated self-renewing armor formed around his body. Not only did it amplify his strength, it served to make him invulnerable to anything this side of a medium-yield nuclear device. He chuckled as weapons systems second to nothing on Earth, and very, very few far beyond, came online. With a thought, he programmed and released the 'kazes from their hatches on his shoulders, the sound of their launching _volloop_ing through the humid night air.

_I know there's a lot of my old life I'm trying to leave behind,_ he thought, with a savage grin, _but sometimes I still just love ta blow stuff up._

The air controller tower's first warning that anything was amiss came when their every single electronic device suddenly shattered, as if from small explosive charges placed within. They tried to communicate with the supreme commander, to report the matter, as orders stated, but rapidly found out the only means of communication that worked was on foot. Then the planes and vehicles began to spontaneously explode for no apparent reason.

The barracks: close by where Angela Marco was being held: the first thing that alerted the troops guarding her that something was wrong was when every TV, radio, light fixture, and cell phone went kablooey. They fumbled around in the darkness momentarily, before someone lit a cigarette lighter. Then a few candles…they could hear the explosions from outside, feel the earth rock beneath their fury.

"_Mother of God!_" said one, "_the prisoners!"_ All the holding cells were electronically locked.

Down in her cell, Angela Marco heard the commotion, even as she searched high and low for something, anything, to relieve the pain of existence. If she couldn't find anything…she'd saved away a small razor blade…

Now there came the sound of a series of ear-shattering explosions in the hallway outside, the force of which shook the ground beneath her. The explosions were getting louder, and the uproar, gun-and handheld artillery fire from the defenders was moving back _down_ the hallway, moving away from her. It sounded like they were falling back before an armored division.

Fearfully, she shrank away from the door. No good thing could come from there. At best, the only thing she could expect was another captor. But the sounds of gunfire continued to recede…

All at once, the solid steel door that was the only way in or out of her cell deformed outward with a metallic shriek, then was torn from its fastenings and tossed aside. Standing in the doorway was a young girl, about fourteen, maybe fifteen. She looked vaguely familiar….Angela Marco struggled to focus her eyes, there in the dim light of the room, now lit only by the moonlight coming in from the small window….

"Mom?" said the apparition. "Mom? It's me. It's Maria." The girl moved forward.

Angela Marco literally didn't know what to think. This girl was calling her "mom"? But that couldn't be. Her daughter was dead, she had to be. And, and even if she wasn't, she'd have no reason to come find her, to call her "mom." No, no reason at all. This girl couldn't possibly be her dead daughter. Her daughter was only six, when she was alive, and this young girl…she was a teenager…and she was so _beautiful_, like an angel…

"Mom? It's okay. I'm here with some friends." Angelique moved to the tortured woman's side. Gizmo stood in the doorway, in full armor, ever alert for any enemy activity. He almost hoped they'd try something. He had a few surprises up his sleeves. And down his back. And appended to his sides. And on the front of his chest…

As for Angelique…the others had tried to prepare her for what to expect, but she was still horrified by the pale, skeletal creature she saw. "It's okay, Mom. It's all okay, now. I've come to take you home."

_Home._

….

One fast transfer assisted teleport back to Jump City, USA: The Kindred Hive: **{{Yes, daughter, we have her condition stabilized.}}** Alpha glanced at the readouts, not that he had to. With his interlink with the Kindred's computers, he knew what they'd say even without looking at. **{{It is well that you found her when you did; she could not have lasted much longer.}}** Gizmo, Alice, Ghost, and Deena looked on from the side.

**{{Can…can you do anything for her?}}** Angelique asked, tremulously. She wasn't sure how to put into words what she really wanted to ask…

Alpha turned to her. **{{We can do much. The question is, what?}}**

**{{What do you mean?}}**

**{{I sense what you want to ask. Can we turn her back into the woman you knew, your mother? And the answer is, yes. In a manner of speaking. We can heal her body, return her to good physical health, that is a simple matter of biology. But her mind is another matter. We can wipe her memories from the time you were parted until now, but this would not necessarily be helpful to you in your quest to restore your mother. If we did that, we would be restoring the woman who gave you away. I do not think you would want that.}}**

**{{…No…}}**

**{{On the other hand, leaving her with her memories of the past few years will leave her with…severe mental and psychic trauma. She has been cruelly treated, by others…and by herself.}}**

Delta and Theta came up alongside them. **{{Alpha is right, Maria. Her physical ailments we can treat easily. But her mental and emotional ones…will not be so easily healed.}}**

Angelique bit her lip. **{{I…I don't know what to do.}}** She looked at the quiescent form of her mother, the Holy Grail she'd sought for so long, and now didn't know what to do with. **{{What—what should I do?}}** In spite of her altered nature, a very human-like tear coursed down her cheek. Deena came up and put a hand on her shoulder. _We're with you, Maria._

**{{Child, that none of us can answer. There may be no good answer.}}** Delta glanced back over at the form on the gurney, who was now beginning to stir. By common consent, the three Kindred withdrew, leaving the young people to crowd around Angela Marco's bed.

Angela's eyes opened slowly. The Kindred had brought her back to partial good health, but more would take time. The first thing she saw was the girl who'd come for her, the angel—she had to be an angel, just as her daughter was now an angel—standing beside her, holding her hand. "Mom?"

Beside her stood three more young girls, one brunette and wearing a hoodie, one a blond girl seemingly a bit older than the rest, and the other with skin and hair the color of new-fallen snow, wearing a black and silver outfit that looked like a uniform of some sort. Beside her also was a boy—a young man, actually, wearing green coveralls, with a shaven scalp and an air of calm confidence about him. He moved to take her other hand, even as the other girls moved closer. "Mrs. Marco? I'm Gizmo, I'm a friend of Maria's. This is Missy," and here he gestured to the girl in the hoodie, who smiled and waved back, "and this is Deena."  
He gestured to the white-skinned girl who'd come up beside him. "And the blond girl over there is Alice. I know you don't know what's going on right now, but I just want to tell you, everything's okay. The nightmare's over. You're safe." He held her hand and knelt down beside her as her eyes widened, taking in the underground lair, the alien machinery, the obviously alien beings in the background. "You're with family now. You're _safe._" He smiled confidently, even as the others looked on in astonishment. Even Alpha glanced over at the young man in something very akin to amazement…and new respect. They hadn't realized _Gizmo_, of all people, could look and sound so…so….confident? No, that wasn't quite the word…

_Heroic._

He patted her hand again. "You're safe here, now and from here on out," he said, as much to Angelique as to her mother. "We're gonna make sure of that." Another genuine smile. "We're the good guys."

…..

One hour later, on a grassy hillside overlooking the city. Deena joined Gizmo, who was gazing up at the night sky, and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I must say," she began, "I was impressed, back there."

"Hm? Why?" Still not really paying her full attention.

She sat beside him, only a few inches away, but further away than she wanted to be. "Well, you…were really great. Poor Maria…I don't think anything had prepared her for…what her mother looked like."

"Yeah." He sighed, looking down at the ground. He picked up a stick and toyed with it. "My older brother…died doing that crap. So I remember."

She stared at him. "You never told us that."

"It's not one of my fondest memories." He threw the stick away.

Silence. Then, "Well, anyway, I just wanted to say, you were great in there."

"Uhm. Thanks." Another pause, and he rubbed his eyes. It had been a long day. "So what's the verdict? What's Maria gonna have 'em do?"

Deena shrugged, a gesture she'd learned from the many humans in her life. "She's still not sure. She'd like things to go back to being the way she remembers them to be, but Father Alpha's right…that wouldn't solve anything. And leaving that poor woman with all those horrible memories…how can humans _do_ that to each other?"

He shook his head. "With some, it comes easier than others. But now you know why the Entity's offer isn't open to just anyone."

"I'll say. I don't wanna share eternity with people who would do _that_ to another person."

"It's not quite that simple, you know. There are some, who start out bad, but who have, I guess you'd say, _potential._ For, for what we call 'good'." Pause. "And then there are some whose potential just seems to go the other way."

They were silent for a few minutes longer. Deena ached to take his hand, but, although she had plenty of courage, that was one brand that, like many young people her age, she was still in the process of acquiring. _Maybe next time._ "What do you think she should do?"

"No clue." He brought himself back from his stargazing and thought. "Though it might be possible to split the difference."

"What do you mean?"

He turned to her, already talking with his hands. "Take her back, all the way to that awful day. Then…just a little farther. So that she remembers the drug use, yeah, okay, but not to the point where she gave Maria away. Then…artificial memories. Lucifer tech. Those pervs wanted Maria, but she wouldn't go for it… she and Maria left, made some kind of a getaway…Maria's powers…" He stopped for a moment, putting a finger across his lips in concentration, eyes wide, seeing nothing of the world around him, "…there's gotta be a way to explain those, I'll come up with something. But she didn't give Maria away, that's the important thing. And, and she's been sick, in a hospital or a rehab or either or neither or both, for off an' on, for all this time, that's why her memory's messed up…anyway, we got time to figure out something…."

"But, but…Mike…wouldn't that be a lie?"

"Yeah. A blatant and total lie. But, Deena, sometimes…sometimes, lies are better than the truth. I know, I know: always tell the truth. It's good policy. But what's never actually said behind that is _whenever possible._ This may well be one of those times when it…just isn't a good idea." He turned back to studying the sky, that faraway look in his eyes. She wanted so very much to just grab his whole head and kiss him right then. "Of course, it's still up to Maria. And…maybe my idea isn't the best one. Just a possible one. We might can, I dunno, tweak it some."

At that exact moment, his communicator beeped. Control Freak's voice came tinnily over the speaker. _"Giz? You there?"_

"Yeah, Rod." And Gizmo proceeded to give Rod a quick rundown on the situation, an overview, minus some of the details regarding the extraordinarily poor condition they'd found Mrs. Marco in. And the decision Angelique was facing. Control Freak was just now making it back to Titan-controlled airspace, as the others had teleported straight back to the Kindred's hive. He'd volunteered to stay behind and teach any pursuing troops the error of their ways.

When you can control the enemy's technology, that's not really all that difficult.

"_Well, it doesn't sound like you guys need me any longer. I'll be heading on back. You know Toni hates it when I'm late for supper."_

Gizmo smiled into the communicator, even though it was voice only. "Tell Argent and the twins we said hello."

"_You got it. Keep me posted."_ He banked the hyperjet sharply and headed up and over the atmosphere, headed for London, and home.

"I will."

As he signed off, Deena realized what was on his mind, and mentally kicked herself. Those occasional comments she'd overheard, the way he always seemed to get this way mostly at night…it wasn't just the sky he was looking at, at all. She'd be surprised if he was even seeing the night sky. "You're thinking about them, aren't you?"

"Yeah. The ones we left behind." His gaze was fixed on a spot on the heavens, just to the right of Polaris, in its new position. The rest of the visible stars twinkled placidly, seemingly unmoving, and of course there were far, far more of them than there had been five years ago. Both Deena and Gizmo knew why. "I'm sure the Osirans are involved by now. The forces being unleashed…I can barely imagine them. I…can't help but wonder…"

Now she _did_ dare to take his hand. "Wonder what, Mike?" Softly.

Sigh. "If…you know…if they're…alright. I don't mean just physically, though that's important too. I mean…" He turned to her, struggling for the right words. "Deena, Kitten was _crying_ the last time we saw her." His eyes widened at the memory, a memory he'd never forget, a memory he couldn't forget. Among others. "I've _never_ seen Kitten cry. About _anything_. She's the ultimate Tough Girl." He paused, now looking off to the east. "And there's no telling how far we've come. We're easily moving at translight velocity now, heading for the point of departure, at the universal rim. I don't doubt we'll catch up with it, sooner or later. And then what? We…we may never know…what happened to them. This side of being assimilated by the Entity, I mean. And, you know, that's…"

"…not for everybody, I know." Now she withdrew her hand from his, looking down at the ground between them. "It's for me, and my brother. But…" She looked over at him, not really wanting to meet his gaze, but unable to keep from it. "I…can understand if…you know."

He looked at her, and, in that moment she saw something in his eyes that she had longed for so long to see, something that made everything all worthwhile. He curled his fingers in hers, smiling. "I think I've made my decision."

_The End?_

_?_


	25. Chapter 25: Destinies, Part 2

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

….

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Please read and review!_

…_._

Timeskip: The Present Day

Chapter 25: Destinies, Part 2

"Declare ourselves a sovereign power?" asked Kitten, as though she was wondering if she heard right. "Like, just go all Fourth of July on the whole _world?_ How would _that_ help anything?"

"It's simple." Robin chewed on a knuckle. "Well, no, it's not simple. But you have to understand how Batman thinks. He doesn't really trust anybody with absolute power. That includes the League, and it certainly includes us. But what to do about it?

"See, if we were your standard supervillains, then the answer would be simple. Attack. One way or another, attack. Make sure they can't utilize this power, someway.

"But we have the disadvantage—to us-of being the _law abiding_ set. So he sets up a regulatory system to ensure some oversight. We don't like that, yes, but that's the way it's played.

"And that gives the Justice League only two options: one, come down in favor of this bill, being the good little superheroes they're supposed to be, or oppose it, which would actually put them on our side, sort of. Or, perhaps more accurately, it would put _us_ on _their_ side.

"But the clock's still ticking. I'm sure most of the movers and shakers in Washington don't understand about this universal ending. Or they don't care."

"'The purpose of power _is_ power," Raven quoted softly.

"Exactly. Universal death—that's really too big for 'em to deal with. But this…this is more up their alley, so to speak. So this way, he forces everybody's hand. Either we go with the law—and it's not a law yet, I know—or we tell 'em what they can do with their laws. Are we ready for that?"

"But what would this mean, in practical terms?" asked Hank.

"In practical terms? Basically, we'd have to stake out our own little fiefdom. Select some place, some place that would serve as a focal point, like maybe some island or something, and then…declare ourselves to be our own nation. A nation of metahumans with alien superscientists on our side, as well as two beings, the extent of whose powers nobody, including us, can even guess at. And you can bet _everybody's_ gonna love that.

"The Justice League won't have any choice but to come down on us, and come down _hard,_ before we 'do something everybody would regret_.'_ Likewise, the U. S. military, and probably the United Nations, to boot, assuming they don't just decide to let the U. S. and the League handle it, which they probably would. But any support we have, from anywhere, could essentially disappear like smoke. How would the villains react to that? Unknown. Some of them might be driven closer to us, just by the act of rebellion alone, but others…there are probably some who wouldn't see it that way. It's one thing to fight superheroes, but quite another to fight what you may consider your own _country._ Just because they're lawbreakers doesn't automatically mean they're traitors, too. And that's exactly what this is gonna look like." He leaned forward, an expression of intense concentration on his face. "But what does Batman get out of it? All this does, pretty much, is either stall everybody, or blow everything higher than up. The League doesn't take any action, 'cause they're waiting to see what we do, the U. S. doesn't take action 'till the law's ratified, and we don't take action because…if we _do_ act, kaboom. There's no middle ground." Pause. "No. There's more to it than that. He's got something up his sleeve, some plan of action designed to, to disrupt everybody's plans. Not just ours, not just the League's, not just the US, but _everybody._ I just don't know _what_."

Starfire got up and moved behind him, her fingers kneading the muscles on his shoulders and neck. "Beloved, you are getting tense again. Come. Lie down with me. Perhaps the answer will come to you."

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. "Maybe…maybe you're right, Star. This has been…one helluva shock. Maybe if I let my brain settle, something will come to me."

"Then come." And she lifted him to his feet, and led him off towards their room.

The remaining Titans sat in silence for a few minutes. Then, Raven spoke up. "Well? Does anybody have any thoughts on the matter, as it's currently being presented to us? Are we ready for…this?"

"Worst case scenario?" Kitten asked. "_I'm_ in. But we might better check with the others, especially those who've offered to support us. Heroes and villains alike."

"Agreed. Well. It looks like it's going to be a long night."

…..

Titans' East: _"Oh, wow, Raven," _Bumblebee's voice sounded over the communication system. Aqualad, Mas y menos, Speedy, and Tara stood in the background, looking shocked. Tara had translated for the two super-speedsters. Raven shook her head imperceptibly. She hadn't known Terra's clone even knew Spanish. _"That, uh, that's pretty bad."_

"I know. And believe me, we're going to do everything in our power to keep it from coming to that. But…it could happen."

"_Yeah, but even so. This registration thing sounds like it would affect us anyway, no matter what."_

"True. If it becomes law."

"_Something tells me it will."_

"_Raven?"_ Aqualad spoke up from behind her. _"This…declaring your independence…where, exactly, would you do that? I mean, would your group, like, claim Jump City? Or something?"_

"Titans' Tower is already on a small island. We could claim that. Or we could find ourselves some small, uninhabited island somewhere, where there'd be no innocents that could be caught in the fallout."

"_Raven…that 'fallout' might be literal. There you'd be, all alone on an island, superpowered beings with a device that could change reality. There'd be a huge temptation to use nukes."_

Raven drew a deep breath. "I know. We all know. And we know that this would delay us even more. But we've powerful allies: the Kindred, the Orb, and the Entity, though I'm not sure we could count on him for all that much support in a matter such as this. But we're trying to keep from escalating matters into that realm. Hence our need for the support of other Titans' or related groups. It may be that if can demonstrate a certain show of strength, that no action will be taken, and a diplomatic solution sought, rather than a military one."

"_I won't lie to you, Raven,"_ said Bumblebee's image on the screen, _"this does change things somewhat. I doubt many of us would be willing to go up against our own government. Plus the Justice League."_

"I know. Hence this call. I know you've expressed support for us in whatever unpleasantness may arise with the Justice League, but this ups the ante somewhat."

"_It sure does. Let us talk it over and see. We'll be in touch."_

Titans' London: _"Ohmygod,"_ Argent was shocked. _"you're sure about this? Your own government…?"_

"Nothing's happened yet, but it seems as though matters…could come to that point."

"_Is not the problem,"_ Red Star interjected, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed across his chest. _"I am well familiar with governments and how they do. What is legal is not always right. We are an ocean away, but you still have my support."_

"_Mine, too,"_ said Argent. _"But you realize, that if the U. S. government comes down against you, many other nations probably will, too. Including Great Britain. And that could easily lead to black ops sorts of situations."_

Assassinations, in other words. "I know," Raven sighed. "Believe me, I know."

Colorado, the Rockies: _"Holy crap, Raven." _Terra's voice was hushed, as though she couldn't quite believe what she'd just heard. _"You're sure about this?"_

"About what I've told you, yes. Now, the repercussions—whether or not we actually declare…well, let's call it what it is: independence from the United States, maybe even from the world in general, that nobody's decided on yet. But I thought I should let you and Gar know. Regardless of our actions, the bill appears to be well on its way to becoming law, and, of course, it could easily have repercussions on you and Gar, even though you two are retired…."

"_Semi-retired."_

"Some may not see it that way. And Terra: it might be you and Gar could want to consider rejoining us, at least so that we're all in the same physical place. Being spread out over the country side-*"

"_Could be a tactical disadvantage. Yeah, I see what you're saying. Well, you know that, come what may, we're with you. Give us some warning if things start looking really ugly, and we'll be there. Have you decided on just where we'd…do this?"_

"No. I don't feel right doing it right here in Jump City. We really need some place all to ourselves. I've got Hank working on a locale. I hope we won't be needing it, but…"

"_But that's not the way to bet, I know. Well, just give us a head's up, okay?"_

"I shall, as much as I can."

Soon thereafter, she was dialing the special frequency Jinx had given her for the segment of the H. I. V. E agents that had previously contacted them. The screen lit up, to show Gizmo, Control Freak, Billy Numerous, and Johnny Rancid apparently lounging around a somewhat dilapidated living room. A large screen TV on the far wall was paused in the middle of some game. _"Hey, Rod,"_ Gizmo whispered, with a smirk, elbowing Control Freak, _"There she is. Go on, say something!"_

Control Freak glared at the diminutive genius._ "One more word, and I'll turn that jumpsuit of yours into cellophane."_ Then he did his best to look nonchalant, bored, even.

_What was __that__ all about?_ wondered Raven. Well, it didn't matter. "Hello. Is Jinx there?" Jinx had, it seemed, become the unofficial spokesperson for the group.

Billy Numerous had assigned one of his clones to the communicator. _"Nope. Ain't seen her, nor Kid Flash all day. Why? Somethin' up?"_

"You might say that. If you would, could you please assemble the others, including Jinx and Kid Flash, and call me back, on this frequency? There's been a development I need to make you all aware of."

Within an hour, the communicator chimed; incoming call. Raven had stepped out for a cup of herbal tea (if there was ever a day for herbal tea, this was it), and answered the incoming.

The screen lit up to reveal the H. I. V. E'ers, plus Jink and Kid Flash, grouped around the couch facing the TV, which was turned off. _"Yeah, Rae? The others said you called earlier."_ Jinx turned the camera to better include everyone in the group.

"Yes, I did. Jinx, something's come up, something I felt all of you that have offered to support us, needed to be made aware of it. It may affect whether or not you wish to continue your support. It's…something of considerable importance."

"_Go on."_ It might have been Raven's imagination, but it seemed like the others behind Jinx tensed somewhat. The smirk on Gizmo's face had vanished, and Control Freak's attention was now riveted on her.

She proceeded to detail the bills currently in the House and their potential repercussions on the Titans and other such groups. "So you see, we could be facing action by the United States government, as well as by the League. Sanctions, at the very least. Possibly military reprisals. If you continue to stand with us, you will probably not escape unscathed.

"I guess what I'm saying is, it would be understandable if you wish to rethink your position as regards to your support of us."

Jinx nodded for a moment. Then, _"Raven, don't take this the wrong way, but…do you have any idea who you're talking to?"_

_Huh? _"Excuse me?"

"_Most of us have spent a large part of our lives on the wrong side of the badge or the uniform. The idea of going up against the League? Not a problem. We probably would have anyway, sooner or later. And from what I'm reading between the lines here, evidently the government would love to get its hands on this crystal, one way or another, right?"_ She turned to the others. _"Anybody here wanna trust __this__ government with that kind of power?"_

"_Hail, no!"_

"_Nope."_

"_Never!"_

"_You better believe not…"_

"_Killer drones ain't enough, already?"_

Jinx turned back to Raven. _"So it looks like you're still stuck with us. That is, unless __you__ wanna ditch __us__…"_

Raven smiled and shook her head, her empathic power revealing their sincerity. "I don't think that'll happen. I think I speak for us all when I say we're happy you're with us."

"_There's choices, and we all make those," _said Control Freak, speaking up for the first time. There was something about his tone of voice that caught Raven's attention, a serious note she'd somehow never associated with the couch-potato technomancer. _"And then there's Destiny. We only make part of that. For better or for worse, ours lies with you." _There was a quiet determination to his voice that made Raven take another look at him, as though seeing him in a different light. Was this really _Control Freak?_

_Strange,_ thought Raven, _how our adversaries seem to be proving to be better allies than our friends._

_That is an odd thing to learn, here at the End of the World._

…

_To be continued…._


	26. Chapter 26: Plans Within Plans

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 26: Plans Within Plans

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Please read and review!_

"All right, let's go over this." Bumblebee had assembled Titans' East for an emergency conference in Steel City. "'Cause somehow I don't think we've got long."

"I know," said Aqualad. "'Bee, I relayed that information to Aquaman, like you suggested, hinting at the Titans' problem—while being careful not to call them _our_ problems, but, at the same time, pretty much implying it—and mentioning the bills and their consequences."

"And his response?"

"…Was no response whatsoever. I know Arthur Curry, and that's not the way he usually plays it. He lets you know exactly what he thinks; he doesn't, what's the human expression, 'beat around the bush? Well, he doesn't. To me, that indicates he hasn't made up his mind yet."

Bumblebee thought, her chin in her hands. "Having the King of the Seas on our side, even passively, would be an enormous improvement. I understand Atlantis does have a UN presence, which pretty much nobody else does, except for the League itself. And the League's…had its problems with the UN, in the past."

"On the other hand, the main reason Atlantis _has_ such a presence is because they've been careful about the boats they've rocked. That near-invasion thing…you can bet someone on the ruling council will bring that up, saying they don't need to antagonize the surface-dwellers anymore, especially not over something like this, that doesn't directly involve Atlantean policy. After all, what we're asking is for them to throw in with us based on their king's _personal relationship _with us, not any genuine need on their part as a nation."

Speedy spoke up. "And that's the thing, isn't it? It all comes down to whose ox is being gored here. I mean, yeah, we could tell the others, sorry, but we just can't back you on this…except I, personally, would have a hard time looking myself in the mirror afterwards. But it would be the most practical, and, yes, the most _law abiding_ thing to do. How can we deny that?"

Tara cleared her throat. She'd grown up a lot recently, with the Kindred's science aiding her in throwing off the genetic predisposition she'd been cloned with, to love Beast Boy. Now she was more in control of herself. "I'd like to ask a hypothetical question. Of the group in general."

"Okay." The others looked at her.

"Would we be willing to _go up against_ Titans' West? I mean actually attack them? Maybe on orders from the government?"

"_What?_ No! Whatever gave-*"

"Because that's what it could easily come down to. Look. Best case scenario: the bill passes, Titans' West declares, etc., and we get to stand on the sidelines and watch. Not pleasant, I know.

"But worst case: we could be ordered into the battle, maybe alongside either the League or some black ops groups, or both. Now: split the difference: like it or not, we're still Titans, we've been affiliated with the West Coast group in the past, and we can't get around that. That could easily make a lot of powerful people very suspicious of us, just from that alone. Remember the internment of the Japanese during World War II? _Just because of their racial type._ And here we are, superbeings with 'Titans' hanging onto our name…allegiance subject to question. We could swear all the oaths of loyalty we want to, and some people would still not be convinced.

"Now suppose the League / U. S. wins. I doubt they'd look with much favor on us, no matter what. We'd still be under suspicion. And you know, there's probably some who'd wonder just how we could be loyal to anyone, if we let our own people—ones we've fought beside in the past—get hammered and did nothing.

"Now suppose _Titans' West_ wins? Or at least manages a draw? It could happen, you know. They've got the crystal, the Orb, this Entity, not to mention the Kindred. And who knows what other resources they have. As Speedy says, would we be able to look at ourselves in the mirror after that?"

There was absolute silence around the table. Mas y Menos read the words scrolling across their tablets, translated from English. They both looked at each other, and nodded.

Bumblebee stood up. "Does anybody have anything to say, or add to, that?" No one spoke up. "Then it seems we've no real choice, not at all." She paused. "I'll call Raven. Aqualad?"

The Atlantean teen smiled crookedly. "I'll let Aquaman know. That is, unless Batman's already told him."

…..

11:30 Hours: Two shadowy figures moved stealthily through the unlighted portion of the warehouse. The rooms next to these were carefully guarded, as was this room, but nothing's uncrackable.

Gizmo stopped, looked around. "Coast's clear, Rod. Follow me." Behind him, Control Freak was clearly nervous. "I guess there wasn't any other way of doing this, huh, Giz?"

"If there had been, we wouldn't be here. Now c'mon. That junction box is just over here." And he indicated with a sharp nod of his head.

Overhead, as silent as a ghost, a black shadow slipped from one pile of boxes to another. Batman narrowed his eyes as his optic imagers confirmed his suspicions: Control Freak and Gizmo, normally enemies of the Titans, but now allies. Question: did the Titans know they were here? It was possible they could be acting without authorization. After all, they were criminals.

But there was absolutely no question in his mind what they were here for.

This room was closed off, used only for storage. The adjoining rooms were likewise occupied only by a skeleton crew…but there were data juncture cables that ran underneath this structure.

The U. S. military's own version of the internet was, of course, closed to the public simply by means of being on a completely different circuit altogether. There was no physical connection between the two. In order to hack into the government's databases, one had to actually be in a certain physical place, a place that was heavily guarded for that very reason.

In order to determine what the military's plans were for the Titans, these two technos would have attach a physical siphon of some sort to a physical cable. So their presence here made sense.

Silently, he moved from one vantage point to another, drawing back into the shadows when they looked up. Were they suspicious?

Generally speaking, people only saw Batman when it was too late. But Batman was smart enough to realize that the level of technology often accompanying these two was an unknown factor. They may have sensors…

"There! There he is! _Rod!_ Go for it! Down that way!" Gizmo clicked a button on his belt, and two surface-to-surface missiles leaped away, heatseekers, zeroing in on the Dark Knight.

A thrown batarang took out one missile; he dodged the other, already readying smoke bombs. These particular bombs would also mask his heat signature, making more such missiles useless. Along with them, he also threw a chaff grenade, producing a cloud of multiple radar reflections. He had to make this quick; the authorities were sure to hear the racket and would come to investigate.

None of them needed to be here when that happened.

Cape wide, he glided down in a spiraling pattern towards the entrance to the aisle they'd ducked down. Even before he touched down, he was readying no less than three batarangs, one a stun grenade, and one a "screamer," designed to disorient and confuse the target. Quickly but cautiously, he peeked around the corner. His maps indicated that this was a dead end; they had to be at the other end of it, as he'd seen no evidence of flight capabilities on their part.

Nothing. The aisle was a dead end, and there was no sign that anyone had come this way.

Without even thinking about it, Batman instantly drew his grappling line and shot the hook into a support beam on the ceiling. If they weren't where they should be, that could only mean one thing: a trap.

He mounted another pile of equipment, a vantage point from which he could see his surroundings. In the distance, he could hear the sound of voices, alarms, and other noises indicated an aroused base. Quick: where could they be? He knew there were no hidden exits in the aisle way they just run down….

Still nothing. Batman narrowed his eyes…he'd missed something. But what?

There was a rattling at the door. Time to go.

…

0300 Hours: Gizmo sat in the small room with Alpha and Angelique, in one of the contoured Osiran chairs, his head in his hands, elbows resting on the table. Alpha watched him steadily. This young human had one of the most powerful non-boosted intellects he'd ever come across, and he was currently wracking that brain for an answer that none of them could fully and completely answer.

"It's gonna come down to it. Independence…and then the you-know-what hits the fan. We need someplace we can make _secure._ And there's no time to build one."

"What about that underground complex you showed us?" Angelique asked.

He shook his head. "Maybe as a last ditch, last resort option. But it's too old, really…it would require way too much reworking to get it to do what we need it to do."

"And what's that?"

Gizmo thought for a minute. He was getting another of his headaches. "Basically? Stand off everybody on the entire planet, and maybe beyond. And it's just not able to do all that. Sure, for a while there, it was good, with the quantivores, but we're talking long-term. Not even this other HQ you were telling me about, Slade's lair, would have what we really need."

"Do you not think that Raven and the others should be apprised of these thoughts of yours?" asked Alpha. "They may have already thought of them, and perhaps have suggestions of their own."

Gizmo nodded. "They need to know, that's for sure. But we need to make sure our conversations are secure, Alpha. And don't underestimate Batman. Just 'cause he's human doesn't mean he isn't capable of some pretty surprising things."

"We shall take your warning into consideration. Now." And he opened a link to Titans' Tower. Even though the hour was late (or early, depending on how you looked at it), if what Gizmo was telling them was true, every moment counted.

"Gizmo?" Angelique looked at him with concern. "You okay? When was the last time you ate?"

He waved his hand in dismissal. "I got a McRib on the way over. Fries and a drink, the whole nine yards."

"Gizmo! That special ended two days ago! You mean you haven't eaten since then?"

Whoops. Busted. "Well, I mean, uh, I did, er, get something, something else…er, somewhere. I think. _Hey!_" She was levering him up out of his chair.

"C'mon, Giz. You gotta eat. C'mon, now. Resistance is futile…"

….

Still yawning, Raven teleported to the Kindred's Hive along with Hank. She was mildly surprised to see Gizmo there, munching (a bit reluctantly, she thought, with some amusement) on a sandwich. "You wanted to see us, Alpha?"

"Yes. Gizmo here, has been apprising us of some of the deeper aspects of our proposed course of action."

"Oh?" She turned to look at Gizmo.

"Yeah. Y'see, I don't think anybody's really thought it through, just what it would mean."

Raised eyebrow. "Then, by all means, let us go over it."

Thirty minutes later, Raven sat, almost in shock. What Gizmo had told her had the ring of truth. "And…this is what you've come up with?"

He gulped down a bite of sandwich. "Yeah. It's not perfect, but considering the time constraints we're under, it may be all we can do. The best we can do."

"It seems….a bit extreme."

"Yeah. Because it _is_ extreme. But…Raven, I know you don't like to think like this, but this is war we're talking about."

"Yes, but….it would require a pre-emptive move on our part. I'm reluctant to go that route. At least, not without more knowledge about…plans in the making."

He nodded. Strange, she thought, how he'd once been one of their deadliest foes. Now…it was like he'd always been on their side. She wondered why.

Or maybe they were being forced onto _his_ side. Was this how the "supervillains" perceived themselves, she wondered? At war with the rest of society? And were they? "I can totally relate. No point in burning any bridges, I get'cha. But whatever's done, will have to be done quick, Raven. Now, you're in charge, so I'm just throwing this idea out there for you. Consider it an option, if you wanna."

"A lot depends on what Batman has in mind."

Gizmo buried his face in his sandwich, a guilty look coming across his face. "Uh, yeah…about that…"

…

Three hours earlier: Batman returned to the Batcave, very disappointed in himself.

He'd failed to capture the two miscreants, which meant that not only had they apparently one-upped him (something extremely few beings did), but also they were still on the board. Had they been acting under orders from Raven? He didn't know.

The only consolation he had was that they'd not had the time to siphon the military's computers. Batman himself had several such siphons in place; the American military's plans and actions—as well as the plans and actions of other nations—were an open book to him.

He had to admit, he didn't like what some of the most likely contingency plans the military had involved, hence his seeing to the introduction of the bills currently before the House. If he could make a legal decision seem feasible, a violent confrontation would be less likely. At least until the legal matter was settled.

And there was no way Congress would _not_ make such a decision. So, as philanthropist Bruce Wayne, he'd seen to the sponsoring of one that would, he hoped, satisfy the legals as being logical and sufficient to allay everyone's fears without being seen as too soft on a potentially renegade group.

And, truth to tell, he wasn't sure the Titans _weren't_ a renegade group anymore. They so easily could be. The League might could overpower them, should it come to that, but, given the allies they'd been able to acquire, plus the unknown factors of the Orb and the Entity, the cost, both in lives and property damage, could easily be astronomical. It could easily rival the invasion by Apokolips that had happened not long ago. The world was still picking itself up from that.

Plus there was the very real possibility that the Osirans had managed to track or otherwise find Omega and Athena. They were certainly aware of them, by now, and that they'd managed to get away with a fully functional hypercrystal. So they could easily now consider Earth a major threat to them and their imperial objectives. Batman didn't like to think about a full-scale invasion from Osira: they probably wouldn't even need their warriors. Their tech alone could paralyze and overcome any defense Earth could mount.

And if they _did_ use their warriors…millions of Superman-level beings, superbly trained and utterly dedicated beyond death to the Lords…Earth wouldn't have a prayer. Especially in the fragmented form it would find itself after such a major civil war.

He didn't like to think of it, but, as Batman, he _had_ to think of it. Think of it, and plan for it. There was no other way.

Such were his worries that he could be forgive for being only human. He could be forgiven for not noticing the nanobots he'd stepped in, back at the military base, the nanobots that stuck to the bottom of his boots…

….nanobots which waited, patiently, for the most opportune moment….

_To be continued…_


	27. Chapter 27: Sisters

Tales of the Titans: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 27: Sisters

...

_Some of you could find this chapter a bit disturbing, so I've made some changes. Hope nobody's too put off by it.  
_

_I don't own the Teen Titans._

…..

Titans' Tower: "Komi, you must not do this thing!"

Blackfire shook her head, her arms wrapped tight around her. "I _have_ to do it, 'Thena. There's no other way. Things can't go on as they are. I…I'll tell you more about it later, but, but it's eating me up inside."

"But you could be killed!"

Komi nodded. "Yeah. But I don't think I will be. If I really did, I'd probably not be considering this…I'm not suicidal, after all. But you've got to promise me you won't interfere!"

"But-*!"

"No buts! Promise me! And see to it the others don't interfere, either." She saw the look on her lover's face, and softened. "Look, Athena, this is important. Not just to me. It's important to everybody. It needs to be done now, before everything blows up. Surely you see that." She crossed the room and hugged Athena. "You know me well enough to know I don't do things like this lightly. It's just gotta be done, that's all."

Athena held her, rubbing her back, soaking in the sensation of the one she loved so near. "I…..I…cannot say I understand, but, but I acknowledge that you know what you are doing. And…I will honor your wishes on the matter. If you are sure."

"I'm sure. Now. Give me a kiss for good luck, okay?"

…..

Presently, Blackfire was walking down the corridor leading to Robin and Starfire's room. Starfire was just exiting, and started slightly when she saw her sister. Then her gaze froze over, as if she had Kitten's freeze ray in her eyes. She turned up the corridor, her path leading her past Komi.

Blackfire moved in front of her and stopped dead still, blocking her way. "Starfire. Don't you think this has gone on long enough?" Starfire said nothing, nor did she attempt to go around Blackfire. Obviously, this was to be a confrontation. "Look. I know I screwed up. I screwed up big time. Like cosmic level big time. I'm sorry for what I did. That's all I can say, all I can do." Starfire still said nothing.

Now Starfire turned to go around Blackfire, still silent. But just as she was about to pass Blackfire, the latter reached out, grabbed a surprised Starfire by the arm, and slung her into the wall. "Is this what it takes?! Is it? Well, do what you gotta do!"

Starfire looked at her, surprise being replaced by naked fury. Blackfire gave her another push. "Go on! _Do what you gotta do!"_

And with a scream of pure rage, Starfire launched herself at her sister, knocking them both completely out of the Tower, and propelling them onto the rocky shoreline just beyond.

Every alarm in the building went off. Even though the hour was late, everyone turned out, fully expecting to be met with a full-scale invasion from the League or somebody else. So it was to everyone's surprise that they discovered the battle between Starfire and her sister.

Almost everyone. Athena stood on the sidelines, watching worriedly. She turned to the others. "Do not interfere."

"What's going on, Athena?" Raven was getting a little tired of having her sleep cycle disturbed.

"Something I'm told is necessary."

Kory pummeled her sister unmercifully, breaking her arm, then began to slam her head against the rocks on the shore. Blackfire did not move to defend herself; she simply went limp, letting Starfire pound on her. Suddenly Robin was there, holding her back. He didn't have the physical strength to stop her, but his time with her, and on Tameran, had taught him where certain pressure points were. "Kory! _Stop this!_" Somehow, he managed to lever her off Blackfire.

Athena knelt over Blackfire, helping her up into a sitting position. Komi's face was bloody, and her right arm hung uselessly down at her side. She was gasping for breath, even though Tameraneans don't need to breathe.

Starfire stood for a moment, also heaving in gasps of rage. Then she suddenly cried out, and flew up into the Tower, and back through the hole they'd made, coming out.

"Komi….here, let me help you. I'll summon the Orb." Athena helped Blackfire to stand.

"It's…it's okay, 'Thena." Her face was swollen to twice its normal size, her eyes swollen shut. "I'll, I'll heal. Tameranean, remember? We're fast healers. I'll be fine in just a few minutes."

Up in the room she shared with her husband, Starfire was far from calm. She paced and paced, like a wild animal in a cage. Picked up her cell phone. Later on, she'd not be able to recall doing so. "Richard? Come to me. _Now._"

He was there in moments. "Kory? Are you-* But he got no further. She grabbed him and, with one swift move, ripped his clothes completely off, and threw him onto their bed.

…

"Are you sure you don't need Orb-time?" Cyborg inquired. Komi's bruises were starting to fade, but the bones in her arm would take a bit longer to set.

"I'm sure. Just…Athena, make sure those bones, y'know…fit, okay? It'd be bad if I healed up _wrong._" Cyborg, Raven, and Hank looked on, awestruck. They'd never seen Starfire unleash her full power on another person before. It was a savage side to the alien princess they hadn't been aware of.

Robin and Starfire's room: Dick Grayson lay on his back, feeling like the one solid bruise he was. Even though he was in the peak of physical shape, he was still only human, and he'd just undergone an ordeal that would have killed a lesser man.

Starfire, naked herself, lay on the other side of the bed, curled up in a semi-fetal position, visibly shaking.

For a long moment, neither of them said a word. What was there to say? Then, Starfire spoke up. Her voice, soft as always, sounded drained; she was physically and emotionally spent. It was muffled from her pressing her face tight against the pillow. "If you are wishing the divorce, my husband, I will give it to you."

_Huh?_ "What? Kory, what are you talking about?" He grimaced as he rolled painfully over onto his side, putting his arm around her. She wasn't just shaking, she was crying, nonstop.

"Richard…what just happened….what I just did…was not an act of love. It…it was an act of anger. I…did not know I had such in me.

"I raped you, my husband. As I said, if you are wishing the divorce, I will understand."

He rolled her over, and took her in his arms. "Kory. Look. I don't want a divorce. I promised to stand by you in sickness and in health. Not all sicknesses are biological, you know.

"I love you, Kory. That hasn't changed, and it won't change. So put that thought out of your head."

She looked up at him. "But I-*"

He put a finger across her mouth. "No buts. And if _you_ want a divorce, I'll fight it every step of the way. So no. No divorce."

She clung to him as though he were a life-raft on a storm-tossed sea. "I raped you. I raped the one I love the most. How can you possibly forgive me?"

"Because I love you. Haven't I made that clear? I love you, Kory. There's nothing you could do to me that I wouldn't forgive."

Again she looked up at him, only now with a small smile on her face. "Richard, I…oh, great X'hal! You are the beaten up!" She ran her hand over his face. "And _I_ did this!" She started crying again.

He held her close, her muffled sobs against his chest. "Sh, Kory. It's alright. Everything's alright now. Everything's alright…" But privately, he had to ask himself: _was it? Was it really?_

_Would things ever be alright ever again?_

Forty-five minutes later, there was a signal at the door. It opened to admit Blackfire, now fully recuperated from her ordeal. Athena came in with her. "So, sis. Are you…feeling any better?" Both Starfire and Robin were still naked, sitting on the side of their bed, but circumstances being what they were, nobody even noticed that.

Robin was sitting as close by her as he could, with his arm still around her. Starfire was still crying, but in a quieter way. "No," she said. Then, "Why?"

"Why'd I do that? Kory, it had to be done. You were walking around, bottling up all that rage…I couldn't stand to see you go on hurting yourself any longer."

"So you let me hurt you instead? You did not even do the fighting of back. Why?"

Komi came and knelt in front of her. "Two reasons. One, I had to have something to forgive _you_ of. I mean, somebody had to make the first move.

"And you know the other reason.

"So. Can we….go from here?"

Kory didn't say anything for a long moment. Then, she nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

For the first time, Blackfire noticed Robin's condition. "Good goddess. What happened to you?"

"It's a long sto-*"

"I raped Richard."

"_What?_ Oh, my goddess! Kory! I, I'm so sorry! You, too, Dick! I, I never…" She got up and sat by her sister, pulling her into an embrace. For the first time in many years, Starfire returned the gesture, wrapping her arm around Komi's. "Athena, you need to get Dick into the Orb. He's one massive bruise. Make sure he doesn't have any internal injuries, too." Athena moved to do so.

"Wait." Robin turned his attention to Blackfire. "You said there were two reasons you didn't fight back. What was the other one?"

Blackfire turned to her sister, who was still sniffling, nose and eyes running. "You haven't told him? Want me to?" Starfire didn't say anything, but nodded after a long moment. "Well, not meaning to let any felines out of any cloth containment units or anything, but…" And here she turned a mischievous smile on Robin, "you might wanna start getting used to being called 'da da.'"

And that was the last thing Dick Grayson remembered before he woke up inside the Orb.

_To be continued…._


	28. Chapter 28: Sentencing

Tales of the Titans: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 28: Sentencing

…..

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Don't forget to R&amp;R!_

…

Raven was working late—for her—when there came a tentative knock at the door. They'd rearranged some of the rooms on the Tower's upper floor so as to give her an office, with a view of the city. "Come in, Komi," she said.

Blackfire opened the door, a mixture of surprise and an unusual timidity on her flawless face. "You knew it was me?"

Raven stopped what she was doing and rubbed her eyes. It was probably foolish of her to hope she'd get to bed on time tonight. The last time she'd actually gotten an uninterrupted night's sleep had been in Hank's room. "Well, I _am_ an empath. Plus….I figured you might want to talk about what happened today."

"Uhm, yeah. Raven, the last time something like this happened, I remember we used that Lucifer tech to, to cause them both to forget the incident. I…" she sat down in a chair facing Raven, and ran her fingers through her hair, nervously. "I'm wondering if…"

"We could do it again?" Raven sat back and nodded. "The same thought occurred to me, too. But Komi, I have to ask myself: did we _cause_ this?"

"Huh? _Cause_ it? How?"

Raven thought for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I can't help but wonder if, maybe, just maybe, our earlier tampering with their—or at least Kory's—memories might've precipitated this event."

Blackfire leaned back in the chair, arms crossed. "Yeah. I can see how…I mean, sorta how…okay, I'll admit it: _how?_"

"We blocked Kory's memories earlier. Completely blocked them off, erased them. We did the same for Robin, but then we re-implanted all his memories up to that time.

"But Starfire, even though she was acting under the influence of the red crystal—which we still haven't tracked down, I might add—still chose her actions. Actions based on her emotions. Did those emotions come, completely, from outside her, or did the effect of the crystal release emotions she'd suppressed all her life? It's akin to getting drunk, or on drugs. The drugs don't _cause_ the emotions, they only release them. But is this like that?"

"So you're saying…Kory might've had this…this horrible anger running around inside her for, for…how long? Until it built up, and, and she exploded? Like this?"

"I'm saying I can see the possibility, and the possibility only. She was denied the chance to work through her anger before—we took those memories completely away. She didn't have to deal with them. Now?

"What if we do it again, and something happens again? Something maybe worse?

"She could _kill _Robin, Komi. Or, or someone. Or something just as bad. Not intending to, you understand, but I'm sure she didn't mean for this to happen, either. But it still happened.

"Lucifer's notes weren't all that complete, his memory manipulation technology was too recent. We don't know the long term effects of such memory manipulation." She got up and moved to the window. The new office was more centrally located; the lights of the city glowed in the distance. "And what of us? Do we start tampering with each other's memories, experiences, and emotions when things don't seem to be going just right? That's what it could come down to." And here she turned to a very thoughtful Komi. "And if that's the case, did we ever really have this conversation in the first place?"

…..

"Well," said Komi, after a long silence, "If there was ever a time to consult…a higher wisdom, I guess it's now."

Raven nodded. "I'll begin preparations tonight. In the meantime, pass the word around that I'm going to talk to the Entity. He may have some answers he's willing to give, and others may have questions for me to relay."

In her room: Raven sat on the side of her bed. Contacting the Entity didn't require a magic circle or any such thing as was normally used for magical beings, because the Entity wasn't magic. It—_he_—was beyond magic. {{Are you there?}}

_**{{I am.}}**_

{{You are aware of what has transpired here?}}

_**{{Of course.}}**_

{{Can you help us? Can you help me?}}

_**{{That depends upon what you mean by 'help.' Do you want me to tell you what to do? Is that what you want? Do you want me to show you the probable outcomes of various solutions, so that you can choose the least hurtful of them?}}**_

She looked up. {{_Can_ you do such a thing?}}

_**{{Of course}}**_

Raven assumed a comfortable position. _**{{Alright. Show me the least hurtful five, please.}}**_

Presently: {{None of those seemed very effective, somehow.}}

_**{{They were not. They were merely the least hurtful.}}**_

{{So we're going to play word games here?}}

_**{{It's called 'refining your search,' Raven. You want the five least hurtful but most effective means of solving the problem. Have you given serious thought as to what the problem is, even? Or what you'd feel was a successful solution?}}**_

{{Of course I have. I want Starfire to quit beating herself up over this, to, to achieve a kind of peace with herself. It just doesn't seem right, now that she and Komi have finally reconciled, now this had to happen.}}

_**{{And you wonder. You wonder if perhaps your earlier actions—the suppression of Starfire's memories—might have led to this.}}**_

{{You know me well enough to know that this is true.}} She paused, and licked her lips with a tongue that suddenly seemed very, very dry. {{Did we?}}

_**{{What would you do if I said yes?}}**_ Raven was silent, mentally and physically, taking it all in. _**{{And what would you do if I said no?}}**_ Again, Raven was silent, thinking. _**{{As is often the case, the truth of the matter lies somewhere in between. As does your solution. But before you can begin to contemplate future actions, there is one you should undertake now.}}**_

Now Raven looked up. {{What is it?}}

_**{{You are about to deliberate on serious matters involving your friend. Do you not think she should be consulted?}}**_

Koriand'r, aka Starfire, sat in Raven's office, in the very seat where her sister had, just minutes ago, been sitting. Raven was dismayed by the changes that had come over the Tameranean princess since the…incident. She seemed cowed, as though she had no more spirit left in her. She refused to meet Raven's gaze, but kept her eyes steadily on the floor.

And she seemed to be thinner and paler than Raven had ever seen her. Komi had confided to her that Starfire had not flown once, nor been able to utilize any other of her abilities that set Tameraneans apart. Even her strength seemed to be gone. Raven knew that Starfire's powers derived from her emotions… "Yes, Raven? You wished to see me?" Still looking at the floor.

"I did. Starfire…well, I may as well get to the point. You had a recent…outburst. Now, physically, the matter's over with. No one was injured beyond recovery, and I understand Dick will be getting out of the Orb later on today.

"Right now, I'm more concerned about you.

"What do you want us to do, Kory? What can we do to help you?"

Starfire buried her face in her hands. Raven could hear the sobs start anew. "I…I deserve to be punished. Raven, you must punish me."

Raven came around and sat on the edge of her desk, facing the distraught princess. "Haven't you punished yourself enough?

"You know," she began, hesitantly, "we have the means at our disposal to remove all memory of this…incident from you and Dick. You really could go back to being the couple you were…before."

Starfire sat still as stone, the muffled, choked sobs the only indication she was even alive. Minutes passed…Raven found herself beginning to sweat. Then, "No."

"No? Are you sure? Remember, it is possible. A clean slate. Start over. We could make it so it just never happened, Kory."

Starfire shook her head, her red hair rippling down her back. "But I would also lose the memory of my reconciliation with Blackfire, would I not? No, Raven. This is pain I need, to remind me that I am not some perfect princess without the flaws or blemishes. I appear to have plenty of those. A-and if it takes this to remind me that I am, in this sense, only human, th-then so be it. But I must be punished, Raven." She looked up, almost beseechingly. "It is only right. There must be consequences to my actions. What if I were a man, who had raped a woman? Would there be any doubt as to what to do with me then? No matter who I was to you?"

Raven sighed. This was as she expected, and even as the Entity had foretold. "Very well, then. We'll convene in one hour. Will you be ready by then?" Starfire nodded.

…

Conference room, one hour later: Raven sat at the head of the V shaped table, with the other members of the core group to either side of her. Starfire sat in a separate seat at the other end of the room. Raven noticed that Komi had chosen to sit in the next table seat by her, as close as possible, with Athena beside her. Hank, as usual, sat by Raven. Cyborg, Devil Cat, and Omega sat on the other wing of the 'V', with real-time images of Beast Boy (now calling himself Changeling), and Terra looking on from their house in Colorado. Also piped in was an image of Robin, from his position within the Orb. When he'd been apprised of the meeting, and its consequences, he'd asked Raven for a pen and paper. And…something else. Something Raven saw no reason to deny him. "Alright, let's convene this meeting. Is everyone up to speed on the reason why we are having this meeting?" Heads shook all along the table's sides. "Normally, this might be a situation that would call for a trial of some sort. But that is not necessary here; guilt is firmly established. Does anyone have any doubts about that?" She looked around the table. No one responded. "Then, what we must do is, we must decide upon an appropriate….response. What must the consequences of this action be?

"What will Princess Starfire of Tameran's sentence be?"

"Raven." Hank had spoken up for the first time. "There's something I think we need to think about, at least. Since we must, after all, police ourselves—or at least, it's better if we do—can we afford to ignore the notion that Starfire was not in her right mind at the time of this deed? I don't think anyone's under the impression that Starfire was really herself when this happened. No matter the reason."

Raven sighed, sitting at the focal point of the 'V' shaped table. "No, Hank, that won't do. The record shows that Starfire was operating with all her mental faculties fully functional. She was not hearing voices, nor was she hallucinating. She _called_ Robin to their room—an act of premeditation. And then she…attacked him." Starfire seemed to scrunch into a smaller space, still refusing to look up. Blackfire reached over and stroked her arm, in an effort to comfort her sister. "All that requires planning. No, Hank. Starfire was in the grip of her emotions, yes, but there was nothing wrong with her basic cognition at the time. There is nothing to indicate that her ability to distinguish between right and wrong was impaired."

Omega spoke up for the first time. "Raven. Regardless of what is decided here this day, I think there is one thing we must make clear."

Raven raised an eyebrow. She hadn't expected anything from the Osiran.

Omega turned to look at Kitten, who nodded. _Go ahead._ "I think we need to reassure Starfire that we do not, in any way, reject her." He stood up looked around the table. "We, the Titans, are family. Starfire?" The alien princess looked up, as though surprised to hear her name. "Regardless of what has transpired, regardless of what must transpire….you are of us, and we love you just the same as we always have. That has not changed, nor will it." He sat back down. Heads nodded all around the table; Gar and Terra's images murmured agreement, and the image of Robin in the Orb raised one thumb up. Starfire almost smiled.

Raven cleared her throat, more for effect than anything else. The others looked at her expectantly. She'd discussed this at length with the Entity, Blackfire, and Robin. "Then, in light of all that has transpired here, and at the specific request of the defendant, sentence is as follows:

"It is, and has been, the custom of Tameraneans for the females to name their children. That is a right you are now relieved of. Another will choose the unborn's name." Starfire gasped and looked up, stricken and pale. "F-friend Raven….?"

Raven continued relentlessly. "That other will be your lawfully bonded husband. Robin? I believe you have something to share with the group?"

"_Yeah. Blackfire, can you see what I've written here?_" He was holding up the clipboard with the paper he'd asked for, only now it was covered in odd-looking characters.

Blackfire squinted, squinted some more, then broke into a wide grin. Of course. It was perfect. And just so _Robin._ "The child of my sister and her husband will be known forthwith as _Mar'i Grayson_."

Again Starfire gasped, looking up, first at her sister, then at the image of her husband on the viewscreen. Now _she_ squinted at the paper which Dick was still holding up. "I…I did not know you knew that old usage of the language, my husband."

"_Mar'i Grayson. That's a good name,"_ said Terra. _"We're still trying to decide, ourselves."_

"It's more than just a name, Terra," said Blackfire triumphantly. "As my sister pointed out, it's a very old usage of the common language of Tameran. See those letters? There at the end? How they dip, rise and join?"

"_Yeah…sorta….so….what do they mean? What does this name mean, written like that?"_

"Normally, the name 'Mar'i' simply means 'the joining.' It's used a lot to name children between royal houses.

"But used in the archaic sense, with these characters, it has a somewhat different meaning:

"It means _Forgiven."_

At this, Starfire started crying, and found she couldn't stop.

_To be continued…_


	29. Chapter 29: Powers and Domains

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 29: Powers and Domains

...

_Character of Alice used with permission by Walkerjordan963. Thank you, Jordan!_

….

_I don't own the Teen Titans. I sincerely wish I did._

…

Chapter 29: Powers and Domains

Next day: Raven summoned Blackfire and Athena to her office. While she made tea (Raven was a firm believer in the Power of Herbal Tea), she relayed what the Entity had told her during their last contact. "And, of course, he brought to my attention something thoroughly unpleasant. Athena, how goes the information syphon on the bat computers?"

"Quite well. Evidently, Gizmo and the Kindred crafted well. Of course, we've altered the bugs Batman planted here to report misinformation, so we're on guard against that sort of thing being used against us, but so far, everything seems to be checking out. The safeguards we put into our own appear to be working, or at least as well as we can detect. What it really comes down to is a guessing game."

Raven sipped her tea. It was still too hot, so she blew on it. "Have you been able to learn about the various world governments, and their plans?"

Athena shifted uncomfortably. She was sitting in an Earthly chair, holding herself upright in it by means of her personal impulsion field—her power of flight. No Earthly chair could hold her full eighteen ton weight; all furniture she actually relaxed in had to be specially reinforced. Briefly, Raven wondered how that had affected her relations with Blackfire, then dismissed the topic. It wasn't important. "Unfortunately, altogether too well. The American high command is seriously considering a covert strike—of a lethal nature. The idea being, of course, if none of us are left alive, we can't pose much threat to their peace and security. Some of their scenarios seem to have a high probability of success, even given mine and Omega's invulnerability. The Orb remains an unknown, of course. And, in several cases, what's held some back is our association with the Kindred—evidently, they've come to respect the Kindred immensely, or at least regard them as a high unknown—and our association with the Hunters. And _that's_ not an unknown at all. Several very vocal groups have expressed…hesitation, shall we say, to begin what they see as an excuse for an all-out alien invasion. They remember the Thanagarian near-invasion a while back, and have no desire to see a repeat, or worse."

Raven's tea was finally cooled to the temperature she liked. "The Entity told me something last night, something unsettling. Basically, it's this: if worse comes to worse, we're going to need shock troops. _Expendable_ shock troops, at that." She saw the expression of the other two. "For us, that means robots. Even if we were to go all 'Clone Wars', I, at least, couldn't sanction sending any living being out to be killed. And…" she drew a deep breath. "…that's what's going to happen. In a sense, I should have seen this coming: every game of chess needs its pawns. We're going to need them too. We don't have any sort of paramilitary or military forces of our own—our very presence was always supposed to be a counteragent for just such.

"But Gizmo and the Kindred are working on that. Between the two of them, I don't doubt but that they'll be able to come up with anything from your basic warbot to a mobile armored autonomous battle tank with a ground effect for traversing difficult terrain. No, the problem isn't that. The problem, the real problem we currently have, is Robin and Starfire.

"That's why I called you two here."

Blackfire and Athena looked at each other. What?

….

Cyborg had checked in with Captain Yeats. Normally, he would have been working on the tech end of the Titans' project, but, with the combined mind power of the Kindred, Omega and Athena, and even (believe it or not!) Gizmo, he had some time to devote to a pet project of his, one that had been bothering him for some time now. As for Gizmo, Cyborg had a hard time reconciling this new creature with the one who had once stolen his beloved car. He wondered what could have happened to so change the kid. But that wasn't his project.

Captain Yeats' greeting was a cautious one. Word was getting around that the Titans were up to something that many others—including the Justice League—didn't appear to be comfortable with, but Yeats had always had a good working relationship with the Titans. "Any more on your mysterious _habeas corpus_ murders, lately, Captain?"

Yeats nodded. He'd been up most of the night, running on coffee and Red Bull, and it was beginning to show. "Got one more. C'mon. Evidence room."

The plastic bag contained ripped rags of torn and bloody clothes. "No body, huh? And no other blood type? Just this?"

"Just this and the car the guy was driving. Nothing done to it. That is, unless you count blood all over the seats. But he did have a credit card go missing. Unfortunately, the last use on it was his own: he drew off about five hundred."

"All the victims were men?"

"So far."

"So….we're looking for a female Jack the Ripper?"

"Looks that way." Unexpectedly, he yawned. Cyborg looked on with concern. "Captain. Go on home. You're dead on your feet."

"I…that's probably a good idea, Victor. But it's just…something about this case bothers me on some level I can't place. Okay, I can see what happens: guy in a car, say. Picks up girl, ostensibly for sex. She has him withdraw money. Then she kills him. Okay, not nice but fairly straightforward so far. We'll ignore the apartment guy for now. Anyway, out of nowhere, slash hack. But what kind of weapon? Victor, we've run every analysis we can think of. Nothing fits. And why no trace of a body? Where'd it go? And why? Was it _eaten?_ Did she _eat_ the guy? What kind of monster are we talking about?"

"Hmmm…what you said. It doesn't look like we're dealing with a human being here. If that's the case, anything's possible. Maybe some kind of ghoul or something. Something that looks human right up until the final moment. That's…more in Raven's line of work than mine; I'll have to run it by her, an' see if it fits anything she knows of." But privately, he was thinking of the blond girl he'd seen, hoodie girl.

The one Raven hadn't been able to see.

….

"I don't understand," Blackfire was saying, "I thought the matter with those two was settled."

"In a sense it is. But in another sense…" Here Raven got up and went to her window, overlooking the harbor, the city. "In another sense, it's not. I think—and being an empath, I have every reason to think this—I think they are on the road to recovery. What future problems they may have, of course, I can't foresee, but I truly believe this one is on the mend.

"But 'on the mend' isn't the same as 'over and done with.' They still have a ways to go, some personal issues they need to settle, and I don't believe they can do that effectively in the midst of what could easily become a war zone.

"So I'm going to send them someplace, to work out these matters in peace and comfort. What I wanted to know, Komi, is what is the Tameranean mindset regarding rape? Especially in this case?"

Blackfire looked thoughtful. "I see what you're saying. You're thinking about sending them both back to Tameran, right? A comfortable environment, relatively speaking, where everybody accepts Kory, knows her and loves her. But will they once word gets around?

"And the answer is: I don't know. The…the practice of rape is very, very rare on Tameran; the only examples of it that come to mind were some ancient stories told about some conquering faction seizing a certain kingdom or something, taking everything of value…and taking the most attractive, healthiest women, too. Although it was never stated what they were taken for, it was, er, largely understood. I've heard many an old story, and old romance in which the captured female falls in love with her new master…and many in which her, her _cooperation_ in the mating act, shall we say, was of no concern to the conqueror.

"But it was always the man assaulting the woman. The only incident involving matters going the other way was the old story of a prince child taken in battle by an enemy queen, who then raises him to what I suppose would be mid to late teens, alongside her own daughter…and then requires him to marry the girl, whom he'd known more as a sister than a sexual partner. He doesn't wish to do this, of course—that's his _sister_—but it's required of him, of them both, actually, as she feels much the same way. But it's the queen's order, so they have to do it, no matter what. So she takes him to bed. Or he takes her to bed, depending upon which variation of the story you hear." She looked at Raven. "That's the closest I can think of. Of course, there are the stories, horror stories, about what Psions do to captured Tameranean women, how they're treated. I've….heard a few of those, myself." Here she colored, either with embarrassment or rage. Or both. "I don't guess that helps a whole lot, does it?"

Raven thought for a minute. Actually, it didn't. "In these 'required acts,' how was the dominant male regarded?"

"Like a piece of shit. Any man who'd put any woman through such an experience for mere momentary personal pleasure, wherever that pleasure came from, whether from the biological act itself, the feeling of power and control, the infliction of fear and pain, was regarded as subhuman, worthy only of death. At best."

"But what about the other you mention? The boy, the young prince?"

"That was an empire-building move, and, to be honest, is not really regarded as actual rape. The boy basically married his sister. They weren't biologically related, so that part didn't matter…and I suppose the _attraction_ to the story, the reason for its popularity after all these years, was the notion of doing something, you know, _forbidden_ that you had no choice but to do, anyway. I mean, sex with your sister? Earthlings aren't the only ones who find a certain…fascination with such functions."

"Hm. But nothing to indicate how Kory would be received?"

Blackfire shook her head. "I can't think of anything. Of course, there are those who'd support her no matter what, like Galfore. And….those could easily see Robin as being the one at fault there. What, after all, did he do to provoke such a response in our beloved princess? That's how that line of reasoning would go."

Raven nodded. "Blaming the victim" was, apparently, not just an Earth custom. "But that still leaves me with the quandary. They need some space, someplace where they can…can heal. An ordinary attack, with Kory getting out of hand, momentarily, wouldn't be so complicated, but this…I'm afraid it's eating her up. Robin's gonna have his hands full when he gets out of the Orb, just keeping his marriage together. He won't have time to be the warrior he'll need to be. And, right now, Kory can't.

"So I'm open to suggestions."

Athena spoke up. "There…may be a way. Do you remember, back when Tara had developed an addiction to those emotion crystals?"

"Yes?"

"The Kindred have a process. It involves the person—I see no reason why it could not be expanded to include two people—can live, for all intents and purposes, in an idyllic virtual world, replete with fully interactive replicas of their friends, and go through as many healing psychological processes as need be. They would do this, I presume, deep in the Kindred's Hive, which is probably the safest place for Robin and Starfire—or indeed, anyone else—at this time."

"That…that sounds ideal. Good. So that's an option, providing the Kindred will approve. Do you think they will?"

"Of course. I see no reason for them to refuse."

"Neither do I." Raven sighed. It hadn't been all that long ago that they'd regarded the Kindred as perhaps the greatest threat to man since Darkseid. Now they were the closest of allies.

Allies against the rest of the world. "How _is_ Tara doing, by the way? I'm ashamed to say I never really followed her case."

Athena nodded. "She's doing well. She was able to overcome the 'programming' Lucifer had instilled in her, to love Beast Boy. Of course, 'love' wasn't the object of the programming; she was supposed to be, essentially, a rather attractive _receptacle_ for his, er, genetic material, shall we say? A means of extracting a sample. To be…experimented upon." She shrugged, a crooked smile on her face. "I'm sure it beats a needle and syringe any day of the week."

They laughed quietly at that. "Yeah," said Blackfire, "I'm sure any guy would _much_ prefer that. But Lucifer would have been in for a disappointment, anyway, since Changeling's powers are magical in origin, and not the result of his genetic makeup."

"Don't be so sure," cautioned Raven. "There's not a lot of research on it, but those mortals who display unusual amounts of magical talent may easily have some genetic basis for such. I've never been tested, not really, but I know when I went to that other world, where Nemesis and Deena come from, that world's version of Omega was able to isolate me from all the other humans because of a slight genetic difference. It may or may not make any difference…but it's there.

"You're right, though, Komi," she said, still chortling, "I'm sure Garfield would much prefer a beautiful, willing girl to a cold, sharp needle. Lucifer truly _was_ a mad supergenius.

"But to continue…my fear is that either or neither or both of them will probably refuse such an offer, especially now, with things teetering on the edge. If I order them to do it, they could easily disobey. So what options do I have left?"

Athena and Blackfire looked at each other. "What you're asking is, could we strong-arm 'em?"

"Essentially."

Athena shrugged. "We _could._ Robin, I'm sure would be…quite upset about that, as would Starfire, albeit for different reasons. What sort of time table are we looking at?"

"I have Gizmo working with the Kindred trying to develop suitable shock troops for us. He tells me they should be ready within the week. I hope things stay together that long. Have either of you heard anything about the Justice League? Any plans, anything involving us? Or that could involve us?"

"Nothing overt so far. Everybody appears to be waiting to see how the legislation settles itself; there seems to be a hope that it will somehow defuse the situation. But the military as well as the Justice League, are preparing for the very real possibility that it will not.

"What are they planning?"

"The U. S.: A covert strike involving the current Suicide Squad, coupled with not one but several distraction maneuvers. The Justice League: they intend to approach us openly, seeking common ground. Not an insincere offer, but their version of 'common ground' may well be a bit too common for our liking.

"And over and above both these approaches is the fear on both parties that the other will succeed. The U. S. fears a united League/Titans coalition, and the Justice League is frankly uneasy about the possibility, however slight, that we might make a truce with the military."

Raven blew out a sigh. "A three-way stand-off, then. This can't go on. Not for long-*" Just then, her communicator rang. Startled, she answered it, foreboding already twisting her insides into knots. "Yes?"

"_Ray?"_ Gizmo's voice came over the commlink. _"Just thought you oughtta know: those siphons we put on the Batcomputers just went offline. We can't re-establish contact. Think we've been busted."_

Another sigh. "Probably. Well, see to the processing of the information we've got…and make sure none goes the other way." She turned to the others, both there in the room, and present by 'link. "I think matters just escalated a bit."

The Batcave: Batman stood looking at the tiny bug, glowering at it almost as if it were the enemy. Rorek stood by his side; all around him, the various machinery smoked, wisps of smoke curling up towards the stalactites overhead. "So this…this alien ferromancy was none of your doing?"

"No. In fact, I probably would never have found it at all if I hadn't had you slag the entire complex. Fortunately, I've got backups." He looked up and around. "But the Titans are very ingenious. They foresaw that they'd need information on the various powers, and knew that huge amounts of highly classified intelligence basically bottlenecked right through my own systems. So rather than doing them one at a time, they just came here first. I'm really rather impressed."

Rorek stood by him, arms folded across his chest, his half-mask, the custom of his clan of warrior mages, drawn up over the lower half of his face. "They are cunning adversaries, and they now know much of what you know. That is most distressing for an enemy to know."

Batman closed his eyes in what might have been pain in a lesser man. "Rorek, this is one of those situations where…it's more complicated that just 'good guys' and 'bad guys.' The Titans are doing the only thing they know to do to save the universe. At least, they say they are, and, curiously enough, I believe them. Or, more accurately, I believe that they believe what they say. The Justice League is doing the only thing it knows to do to save everyone, the Titans included. And the United States—and, by extension, the rest of the world—are doing the only thing they know to do to survive.

"I just hope," he said, quietly, still looking at the bug, "that one of us will be successful."

…

Cyborg was visiting the crime scene of the last killing. The car was parked over by an alleyway, in a run-down part of town. He looked around. Not many people on the streets, but still, too many for something so violent to have taken place unobserved.

Blood trail led into the alleyway, then disappeared. The clothes, shredded but empty, had been left in the vehicle. His appearance there attracted the attention of gangers. "Yo, man, this your car?"

"No, and it ain't yours either. You see what happened here?"

The guy looked at him sideways. "Maybe. What's in it for me?"

Cyborg made a show of looking through his pockets. "_Damn._ And here I am, fresh outta cookies. Tell you what: how about you tell me what you know, and maybe I can stop this kinda thing from happenin' again? After all, might be you, next time." He looked at the other man. "It wouldn't, by any chance, involve a blond girl in a hoodie, would it?"

Neither of the two gangers said a word, but just turned and left. Hm. That was odd; not even a four-letter witty respon-*

And he just turned and there she was, standing right there at the mouth of the alley, hands jammed in her pockets, hood drawn up over her head.

Cyborg wanted, so very much, to have his arms already morphed into his sonic cannons, but knew that wasn't the way to go about doing this. Some impulse told him to take it easy. "Fancy meetin' you here," he said to her, all the while sizing her up.

Five feet two or three, Caucasian, blond, thin features. There was something about her that just wasn't right, somehow, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Not a bad looking girl; maybe somewhere between fourteen and sixteen. "You live around here?"

She raised her head and looked him in the eye. "What if I do?"

"Would you know something about these murders?"

"_Are_ they murders?"

"They sure as hell ain't bar mitzvahs."

She looked off, her eyes tracking down the street. "You know nothing of Hell."

"On the contrary. Been there a couple of times. Not exactly a vacation resort, I grant you. But I've a hunch you're referring to something else altogether."

She moved away, drawing back into the shadows of the alleyway. "Don't try to find me, tin man. You won't like what you find."

He spoke up just before she disappeared into the shadows: "Answer me one question: did you kill these men?"

A bark of laughter echoed out from the black alleyway. "I killed no man."

It wasn't until much later, when he was reviewing the incident, that he realized what had struck him as peculiar: Victor Stone, aka Cyborg, possessed a cybernetic left eye, to replace the one he'd lost in an accident a long time ago, when he became what he was. The eye granted him telescopic vision, extraordinarily acute perception that bordered on the microscopic, and was capable of seeing wavelengths the human eye could not see.

But although his human eye had seen the blond girl in the hoodie as clearly as anything, his cybernetic left eye had seen nothing of her at all.

_To be continued..._


	30. Chapter 30: Needs

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 30: Needs

…..

_I don't own the Teen Titans_

…

Chapter 30: Needs

Some time before: Rorek of Nol stood near the top of a high mountain somewhere in what modern day man called the Himalayas, looking over the edge of a precipice down, straight down nearly five miles of open air. He was thinking, and he'd found that such as vista as was currently before him helped him think.

The man in black had not told him the truth; rather, he had told him to _seek_ the truth. That was a very different thing from being told one's version of the "truth." It was also more honest.

He searched the Akashic records, those insubstantial, yet more than physical, repositories of knowledge for information about this _Raven,_ as well as his supposed benefactors_._ What he found was mixed, indeed.

For one thing, there was almost nothing about the face in the crimson flame that had awakened him from his slumber of ages. He had little doubt but that that same face could send him back to sleep, providing he did not take precautions. So he made preparations to do so.

By contrast, the records revealed much about the girl called _Raven,_ and her doings here on the mortal plane. It was true, she had once been used by her father, the demon overlord known as Scath, or Trigon the Terrible, depending upon who you listened to, to create a bridge between his world and this one. But the key word there was _used._ She had not acted of her own free will.

And the records were quite clear: had it not been for Raven's own actions, Trigon would have added this world to his collection of judged and condemned planets. That it still existed, in anything like the state it was, was a testimony to her own actions.

That did not, however, mean that she was harmless.

Threat analysis was a science as old as mankind itself. One could not judge an opponent on the basis of what said opponent would do, but upon what he, she, or it _could_ do. And this "Raven" _could_ do a great deal of harm, left unchecked. At present, the best balance he'd found so far was the dark man, the one who'd cautioned him to seek the truth, wherever it took him.

But before he could do that, he first had to deal with the face in the crimson flame, and its apprentice, the cold woman. And he knew of a good way of doing that.

And so he launched himself over the precipice, and into the cold, thin mountain air, the valley floor five miles below him.

In the hidden cave, in the faraway mountainside: the face in the Crimson flame took on a surprised look. Mirissa looked up. What could possibly have startled the Master so?

"_Rorek…Rorek is no more."_

"Master? You mean he is dead?"

But by now, the face had turned back, and was making an obvious effort to turn its senses inward. "_No…no, not dead. Not dead as such. That spawn of a thousand baboons reasoned out that I could control him through that body of his, so he freed himself of it. Now…."_ There was a faint rumbling in the cavern; some dust drifted down from the ceiling. "_Now what is he doing?"_ The rumbling grew stronger, and became less intermittent. Now the Crimson's face actually showed alarm, something that Mirissa had not believed possible. _"No. Surely, he would not…but he has. Mirissa!"_

"Yes, Master?"

"_You must take my altar and remove it to somewhere far away. Not on this same mountain, nor even in this same land. Move it as far away as you can. Do so quickly."_

"I hear and obey, my Lord. But what is happening?" The rumbling was getting stronger, ever stronger, as though something was approaching….

"_That fool has summoned a subterranean."_

…

"_Kakogo cherta_?" Svotskov checked and rechecked his instruments. "What the hell? This _can't_ be right." The readout showed the recent seismic activity, activity that had not stopped, but, if anything, was growing stronger.

"What is it?" His colleague, Professor Dobachevsky, divided her attention between the readouts and her mentor's face. "An earthquake?"

He shook his head. "Not out here, not this far away from a fault line. But that appears to be exactly what's going on. Except look." His finger traced the line on the paper graph. "These tremors started out here…" and he noted the location with a pencil, "about twenty miles below the surface. Now, look: the epicenter of the temblors has _moved._ It is now only five miles below the surface, angling sharply upwards in this direction." He pointed, delineating the line from the beginning of the shocks to the most current readings. He turned to her, eyes wide with fear. "Anna. _Something is rising up from the deep Earth. Something gigantic."_

…

"….don't wish to get you involved in this altercation," Raven was saying to Talks-to-God. The Hunter starship _Deson_ was currently in high Earth orbit. "We are under no illusions regarding our ability to actually win this conflict, should it come to that. We don't wish to jeopardize your relationship with other powers here on Earth. It isn't that we don't want, or couldn't use, your help; we simply don't want to cause any more of a problem between our two peoples than we already have."

"_Friend Raven. Perhaps you misunderstand. We have no 'relationship' with anyone else upon your world, nor, at present, do we desire any. __You__ are our friends, our allies. It would not be honorable to abandon you to your fate."_ Talks to God paused momentarily, then continued. _"Were we motivated solely by profit, your concerns would make sense. But we are not, nor do we wish to be."_

"We thank you," Raven bowed her head briefly, a gesture of respect. "Many changes are likely to take place in a short period of time soon. I myself do not know all the details, but I will keep you apprised of them as I can."

"_That is all we can ask. And, Friend Raven…know you that we, our people, stand with you and yours here in this hour of need, even as we did on Apokolips."_

"Thank you. I sincerely hope it does not come to that." And the two signed off.

Raven sighed, there in the communications room. She was by no means through, however. She placed a call to Gizmo, working nonstop with the Kindred. Shortly, his image appeared on the screen, his signature green coveralls smudged and dirty, sweat pouring down his face. Raven smiled inwardly; she'd have to get Angelique to see to it that he took better care of himself. Control Freak was in the distant background, directing several Kindred 'droids, building some large object. "Gizmo? How goes construction?"

He wiped his brow, unaware that he was holding a force-driver in it_. "Not bad. We're ahead of schedule. We should be…well, serviceable within a week. Tweaking will take a bit longer, if we have a bit longer, that is."_

"We may not, but there are other things happening that may delay any action. I've recently sensed a massive shift in magical power, which feels like a residual from something Rorek did. He's probably caused some sort of huge scale diversion; why, is unknown. But I suspect we'll be hearing from him, though not right away. The Akashic records list him as a benevolent force, but his idea of benevolence may not be ours. But I am keeping watch out, and have instructed the other magic users in our group to do so as well.

"But as soon as the complex is suitable, let me know. Comfort may have to wait." She paused a moment. "Where's Angelique?"

"_Probably plotting to make my life miserable. I mean, she keeps wanting me to stop working just to eat! I keep telling her, I can eat a burger perfectly fine with one hand and work with the other, but noooooo! I gotta stop everything…."_

Raven smiled. "She's only trying to help. Try to get along with her; after all, we need you both, as well as the Kindred, if we're to make it through this."

"_Grumble. Okayfine. I'll try."_

Raven craned her head first one way, then the other. "Gizmo…what is that in your pocket?" There was a piece of colored paper sticking out of his upper left vest pocket.

"_Huh? Oh, it's uh, nothing. Just…just a diagram I was working on. Yeah, it's a diagram of some, some circuitry I wanna incorporate into, into our, uh, thing."_ He nervously thrust the paper deeper into his pocket, but not before Raven had seen some of it: it was a print-out picture, the face of a little girl with snow white hair and skin, smiling at the camera.

"Ah, yes. A diagram. I'm sure it will be most useful to us. Well, I will let you go for now. Please keep me informed as to your progress." Raven kept her smile carefully hidden until the connection was broken.

For the next communique, she didn't need the communications array. {{Orb? Are you there?}}

_{{Yes, Raven, I am here.}}_

{{I've tried to keep you up to date with what's going on with us. Is there anything you can add to that?}}

_{{I am limited in what I can impart, both by my future self and by the actions of the being you call the Entity. His actions are beyond me. However, I can, like you, sense a tremendous upheaval in the magic ether approaching. It seems to center around the hypercrystal your Omega is currently working so diligently on. But from what it will come, that I do not know. I stand ready, however to assist in whatever way I can.}}_ This was the Orb's way of telling Raven that it would heal any injuries incurred in them, if it could teleport the victim to itself in the time before true death set in. Raven sighed in relief. At least it could be said they had the best medical insurance there was.

They might need it. {{Thank you. Should you come into the possession of any further information…}}

_{{I will, of course, let you know.}}_

Alright. One last communique….she activated the special frequencies the Titans had developed to communicate with absent teammates and allies. Presently, the faces of the various Titans' groups, including Changeling and Terra from their home in Colorado, began to appear on the monitor, as did the screen showing the supervillains who'd decided to side with the Titans. In one corner, one Raven had insisted upon, was also one very special link….

"Alright, people. Here's the way things stand so far." And she proceeded to give them a report on Gizmo and the Kindred's project, and its intended usage. "So what I need to mention is this: every one of you has a quantum gate handy. When the time is right, and it looks as though things are about to start happening, use those gates to teleport here. It is vital that we leave no one behind, no one out of our field of protection. No matter their powers, they could be overwhelmed. Aside from the fact that we don't want that to happen, it would also reduce our overall strength, and make us vulnerable to a hostage type situation. It's simpler if we 'turtle up,' at least until a course of action can be decided upon. Remember, this isn't a regular war: a pre-emptive strike, while tempting, would only serve to ignite the powder keg this situation has become. I'm afraid it will blow up, regardless, but it's better if it blows up under more controlled situations. Can we count on your cooperation in this?"

The various Titans' groups nodded: Red Star, Argent, and Jericho giving their consent. Titans' East looked at each other. Yes. They were in agreement.

Punk Rocket looked disgusted. "Blimey! You're talkin' pansy talk!" Jinx _whapped_ on the side of his head. "'ey!"

"You _really_ wanna go up alone against Superman, Green Lantern, and the rest? And remember, _dumbass_, that's a _best case _scenario. _Those_ guys would wanna take you alive. The military?" She mimed a gun pointed at his head. "Not so much."

"Oy niver said nothin' like _that._"

Steel City: After Raven closed the communications, the Titans made their way back to their stations. They'd already resolved to go nowhere alone, nor be out of communication with each other for more than a few minutes at a time. It was a sobering experience, to realize that they might be under the gun, literally, targeted by covert ops groups. But in this, the very smallness of their group and the familiarity they had with each other worked in their favor: No black ops groups could impersonate any of them, or anyone working for them, such as had happened with the Justice League not all that long ago.

As they were filing out of the room, Speedy caught up with Tara. "Hey, Tara. You okay?"

"Hm? Sure. I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. You just seemed a little preoccupied, these days." Another shrug. "Maybe it's just me."

She was silent for a moment. Then, "No…no, it's not just your imagination. I guess I have been a little…distracted, lately." She looked up, and Speedy marveled at how much like Changeling's Terra she looked. But then that was to be expected: she was Terra's clone. She reached up and brushed her golden-blond hair back over her shoulders.

"Well, I mean…if there's anything I can do to help…"

She turned to him, smiling. "You know? As a matter of fact, there is. Are you busy right now?"

"Nope. I've already put in my training for the day, and got caught up on my paperwork, for once. Even Bee was impressed. Why? What'cha got on your mind?"

"Just come with me." And she pulled him in the direction of her room….

…..

Some time before: The destruction of a mountain was awesome, thought Mirissa. Especially when it was being destroyed from within.

What the Master had called a "subterranean" had tunneled upwards from the deep Earth, near the mantle of Earth's crust, guided, no doubt, by that traitorous Rorek, straight for the Master's old cave. The entire mountain shook as though with the ague, avalanches began their cascade downwards, followed by rocks and bits of cliffs. Then the first head had emerged.

The head was large enough to swallow an aircraft carrier whole, and attached to a think, serpent-like neck. It craned around, its one eye lingering on the other mountains nearby. The neck was long enough for the head to extend outward several hundred feet, as the single eye took in its surroundings.

Another head emerged, this one accompanied by a tentacle thicker than a school bus. It whipped back and forth, as though seeking some enemy to latch onto. Then another head. Mirissa wondered what the whole creature looked like.

And why Rorek would have summoned one in the first place. She couldn't see that it accomplished anything. Did he hope to control the beast, use it for, for what? Vengeance against the Master? That was laughable. The Master wasn't flesh and blood, anyway.

And yet, she could feel the powerful magic emanating from this monster. Perhaps he'd found some way to utilize that, but to what purpose?

…..

Here and Now: Raven's communicator chimed, and she answered it, noting it was Blackfire calling. "Yes, Komi?"

"_Uh, Rae? You remember we talked about…Robin and Starfire and…options, a while back?"_

"Yes?" Raven could feel a cold chill settling into her arms and the back of her neck. Now what?

"_Well, there could be a slight problem with…implementing those actions."_

"A slight problem."

"_Yes."_

"And that problem would be…?"

"_Well, you see…Athena and I have looked high and low….and we can't find 'em. They've both disappeared."_

…

Titans' East: Tara's Room: Tara Zharkov, Terra's clone, lay side by side with Roy Harper, aka Speedy. Both were quite naked, and both of them were facing up, with her right hand in his left. "Well. That was…nice."

"It certainly was," he agreed. _In fact, things don't get much nicer than that._

"Roy." There was a note in her voice that made him turn to her. She'd rolled over on her side, facing him. "You do understand what we just did here, don't you?"

"You better believe I _understand_ it."

"No, I mean…._really_ understand it." Again that note to her voice. He felt something within him sink a bit. "I mean, like, really really understand it, don't you?"

He hardened himself. "Sure. I understand. This was fun. But that's all. Right? And you're totally right. Now would be a spectacularly poor time to start any sort of relationship. I mean, we might find ourselves in a shooting war tomorrow morning. So, yeah. I understand."

"Roy, I…I'm sorry…"

He turned and kissed her. "Don't be sorry. I understand. We both have needs. You have needs, I got needs. It's human nature. You certainly helped me. I just hope I helped you as much."

She returned his kiss. "Thank you, Roy. And, and, yeah, you did help me. A lot." She drew him to her, placing her head against his chest. "You know…this doesn't have to be the only time we….do this. I mean, it's like you said, you've got needs, too…."

He curled a finger under her chin and raised her face up to his. "Hey. Save that for a time when I feel comfortable putting my bow further away than arm's length, 'kay?" Another kiss. Then he swung his feet over and got out of bed. "Well, I'd best be getting back before Bee wonders where I am." He pulled his clothes on, then turned and bent over her, kissing her once again. "See ya later."

She watched him leave out the door. Both of them hoped the other did not see their respective expressions.

_To be continued…_


	31. Chapter 31: On the Surface

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results: Chapter 31: On the Surface

….

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Be nice if I did, though._

_Character of Alice used with permission from walkerjordan963. Thank you, Jordan!_

…_._

Chapter 31: On the Surface

Some time before: "But what in the _hell_ could've caused a temblor like that?" Major Stein gazed intently at the readout he'd just been handed. No way did any of it make sense.

First, the underground seismic vibrations. Then, according to the best equipment they had, the vibrations seemed to be _rising_, heading towards the surface.

Looking at the readout, he felt something cold run up and down his spine.

"We have no idea, sir. Our best guess is that it's man made."

"Man made? _That_ deep?"

"Well, understand, we don't mean _normal humans,_ sir. We're talking about possible metahuman activity."

"Oh. Of course. Should've thought of that myself. Have we a team in that area, or one that could be within a short period of time?"

"We've one on the way. Hand-picked crew. They've dealt with some metahuman activity in the past."

"Good, good. Keep me informed." Alright, that was as much as any of them could do. Still he wondered what could possibly have produced those shock waves.

Had something _tunneled up_ from the deep Earth? It looked likely.

The disembodied intellect that was Rorek of Nol watched the progress of the massive subterranean. He constantly nudged it, guiding it in a certain direction, careful to keep it away from any populated areas. He'd chosen this area primarily for its solitude.

The beast grudgingly crawled over small mountains, and through shallow valleys. Although its strength was enormous, having to burrow through great densities of rock routinely, it was operating under a certain limitation, one that made it ideal for Rorek's purposes.

….

Here and Now: Cyborg sat in the little café, and mentally reviewed what he knew. One, he didn't have a shred of evidence linking the strange girl to the killings (and why would she call them into question as perhaps not being killings? It was obvious they were…wasn't it? What else would they be?). But his gut, which he'd relied on in many more circumstances than this, told him that she was either the killer or knew who was. Why was it that his mechanical eye couldn't detect her? He picked up his cell. "Captain Yeats? 'S me. Gotta question. Do you have any surveillance or security cameras anywhere in the vicinity of these killings at approximately the right time?" Although he was already pretty sure of the answer.

"_You're in luck; we've got exactly one. But we've gone over and over it many times, and can't find anything out of the ordinary. It's just ordinary security cam footage of the apartment hallway."_

"Could I get a look at that?"

"_Sure, just come on down to…hang on a minute…getting a call."_ Cyborg waited while the silence reigned over the connection. Then Yeats came back on. _"Now that's weird. We just got called to an upper level meeting with some really big boys. I'll be out of the office for the rest of the day, at least, but I'll let the duty sergeant know you're coming. Will you be in today?_"

"On my way."

"Yes, sir, Sergeant Duncan here, sir." Duncan was fairly new to the squad and looked at Cyborg admiringly; he'd never seen an actual superhero this up close and personal before. He was indulging in a little hero worship.

Cyborg restrained himself to keep from smirking ever so slightly. Being what he was—not just a superhero but a cybernetically enhanced one—wasn't exactly a bowl of cherries. "I appreciate your being able to accommodate me, sergeant. Captain Yeats said something about one security video of the apartment murder?"

"Uh, yes, sir. It's right this way, I've got it on a separate terminal right through here…" He ushered the metallic Titan into a small room. "Here, I'll set it up." He eagerly began the video, unconsciously anxious to show off his skills. "Here. You can watch it from here, sir," not realizing that his audience lived and worked with far more advanced tech every day. "I'll be right out here."

Cyborg began the video. The victim, then alive and whole in the monitor, came in to view, emerging from the bottom of the screen and walking down the hallway, carrying his groceries. He stopped at the door, fumbling for his keys, and opened the door, letting himself in. For a few minutes nothing happened.

Cyborg was about to conclude that he'd wasted his time here when he saw something strange. The door opened just a crack, and stood open about four inches, give or take a little. About seven minutes went by. Then the door opened wider, for about four seconds, and closed again with a certain finality. Cyborg examined the time stamp in the upper corner.

He went to the door, signaling Duncan to come back into the room. "Do you have an exact time for the murder?"

"Uh, let me go check…" Duncan ran off, coming back in with a thick folder. He thumbed through it, while Cyborg turned away, a look of frustration on his face. Apparent this precinct hadn't gone digital yet. "Uh, no, sir, nothing exact. The coroner's report puts it at sometime between four and six. I guess if we had a body to work with…. But as it is, no, sir."

"I'll bet I can give you one. Look. See, here comes our victim. Just been out shopping. Now, he goes in…see…" He walked the young officer through the video…"now, look: here, the door opens. We can't tell if he's the one who opened it or not, but my money says he did. It stays open for a few minutes. Then it opens wider, then closes. The time stamp says 4:57 p.m."

"But…but there was nobody there."

"That's where you have to take one single leap of logic on the matter. As it is, currently, as it's currently understood, you're right when you say it doesn't make sense. But just accept—never mind how, just accept it—one small impossibility, and this whole video makes sense."

"What's that?"

"See that point where the door opens but nothing happens? Well, just accept that there was somebody standing there. _Somebody we can't see._ Say, for example, a girl. A girl our victim could see…but we can't. Just suppose, mind you. Suppose it's like that. Then, look: the door opens wider…to let somebody in?

"The it all makes sense."

"But…but…somebody who's invisible? I mean, how…?"

"Not invisible. Our victim could see her—if it was a her. But look at the MO. Man goes to his apartment, puts his stuff down. Doorbell rings. He goes to the door. Now, if it's another man, chances are, he's tired, wants to kick his shoes off. So he'd close the door.

"But it's not a man. Maybe it's a woman, a girl. Maybe somebody he knows, or not, doesn't really matter at this point. But he can see her. But we can't.

"So, not knowing this, he lets her in. She comes in…and a few seconds to a few minutes later…chop."

"It…it makes sense…but what sort of creature would be invisible like that? A vampire?"

"No. Not a vampire. I've encountered a couple of vampires over the years; they're not invisible to good quality optics. Mirrors, yeah. But not eyes or cameras, not usually. Besides, remember, this creature, whatever he, she—though I bet it's a 'she'—or it, is, it isn't invisible to the victims. Invisibility is, much more commonly, precisely that: either you are or you aren't. Not invisible to some and visible to others at the same time."

"So…what sort….?"

Cyborg sat back in the chair. "Actually? I got nuthin'. But I can check with someone who oughtta know."

Outside the precinct house, he drove to the apartment complex, even as he speed-dialed Raven. "Rae. Before I begin, I should tell you, Yeats was called away to a meeting with some big guns. I don't know for sure, but I get the gut impression that it involves us, and official relationships with us. I don't know any particulars, but things might start gettin' hairy for us on that level."

There was a sigh over the comm link in his ear. _"Noted and logged. And you're right; it probably is something to do with us. Relationships with the authorities are most probably about to deteriorate. Was that what you wanted to say?"_

"Not all of it. I have a quick question for you."

"_What is it?"_

"Is there any sort of magical creature that would be invisible to both electronic sensors and magical senses, but visible to the ordinary eye?"

"_Hm. No, I can't think of one. Though I do seem to recall reading something about a sort of creature that was only visible to the ordinary eye, but not to magical senses. Whether or not it would appear to modern electronics I don't know, as it's supposed to have been extinct for seven thousand years. No data."_

"What did it look like?"

"_Imagine a giant toad with tentacles around the throat. That's a close approximation."_

"Could it shapechange?"

"_No. That's primarily why it's extinct."_

"Say, Rae. I just got the craziest idea…"

"_Not another one."_

"Yeah, another one. Can you shoot me all the info you've got on this creature? You know, looks, what it supposedly sounded like, what it wants, or wanted, the whole nine yards?"

"_I can have Hank do it."_ They both understood: Raven, or for that matter, any magic user, had a problem working modern electronics. Unless specially designed, electronics tended to fail catastrophically around them, often within the space of minutes. Raven herself had to have her computer terminal actually placed in an adjoining room to the office she'd created, lest it crash on her during a delicate procedure. _"But why do you need it?"_

"I'm goin' Trick or Treating."

….

Alice crouched down in the alleyway she'd decided to call "home," at least for the night. It was warm enough, and private enough, a closed off area that didn't look like it was frequented much. It branched off from between the buildings, angling left, one terminus ending in a maze of, if her nose was any guide, extremely old garbage bags. She tested them; they seemed soft enough. She'd slept in worse.

Tomorrow she'd have to start hunting again. She was already beginning to feel the pangs of the unholy hunger that had come to characterize her life. Not for the first time, she asked herself: what if I can't find one of _them?_ The hunger didn't care about who or what she fed upon, only that she fed.

Her greatest nightmare was that she would be forced to hunt, kill, and consume humans. But it could come to that.

She'd tried. God knew she'd tried. She'd tried swallowing a bottle of Drano. That had made her as sick as a dog. She came to, with what looked like most of her insides on the outside…but she healed. She tried other poisons. Also ineffective. They just made her sick.

She obtained a gun from one of her victims, gone out into the surrounding countryside, far enough away so that the sound would not be heard, placed the gun to her head and pushed the trigger with her thumb.

She came to, a few minutes later, with a fearsome headache, and parts of her head and brains spattered all over the bushes and trees. She'd dropped, sobbing, to her knees. What did it _take?_

Once, she'd had a brainstorm. She went out to the power station that serviced Jump City. It was no trouble whatsoever for her claws to slice through the heavy insulation, just as they did anything else. Then, she grasped the live line, carrying enough juice to power half the city, in her hands.

Again, she came to, a short distance away, this time with a whole body ache. She'd shorted out power to the entire northern part of Jump City…and she wasn't even singed.

She couldn't even kill herself. And she knew what would happen if the hunger got too great, and she hadn't found any more of _them._ The demon-souled ones.

No test devised by man could detect them. To every other human being, they were humans, too, with jobs, sometimes with families, but more often than not single. Just regular folks.

Regular folks who tended to make others disappear. Regular folks whom you'd never suspect. They were as nice and charming as could be.

But sometimes…sometimes, a sharp police officer might note that people seemed to go missing to a higher degree in certain areas than before. Certain areas where these nice, charming young men (and women, but mostly men) had just recently moved into. The ones who'd disappeared were, of course, runaways, or perhaps the work of some sort of slave trafficking, which, regrettably, was world-wide, and surely not tied to the pure coincidence of a new arrival in the neighborhood.

Of course not.

But _she_ could see them, know them for what they truly were.

And they were just as edible as the humans they preyed upon.

…..

Alice was about to bed down for the night when she saw the movement at the branch of the alleyway. Something was coming from the other side. She hoped it wasn't another bum; she was tired, not so much physically, but mentally, emotionally. Her interaction with the cyborg cop had made her more tense than she'd thought. She knew he wasn't going to give up.

But instead of the shiny plandanium steel half-robot she was expecting, she saw a massive creature, the size of a minivan, and resembling a huge frog or toad, with a collar of tentacles encircling its "throat." The tentacles whipped back and forth, seeming to stretch, then contract again. It was thoroughly disgusting looking. "What are _you?_" she asked.

For a long, long moment the thing said nothing, until Alice was about to conclude it couldn't talk. But finally, its air sac bulged out, and lips not designed for any kind of speech known to man opened. "I'm…._here._"

Alice dropped down from the higher point on the garbage sack pile she'd been about to sleep on, and, ever so casually, assumed a relaxed combat stance. She had a feeling this was going to get ugly. "Okay. _Who_ are you, and _what_ are you doing here?"

"I'm….Towd. That'll do for a name. As to why I'm here?" The creature paused and licked its lips. "I got hungry."

Alice lowered her head, eyeing the creature. "And what do you eat?"

"Let's just say it seems to be plentiful around here."

She shook her head. A piece of junk from the trash pile rattled out of her greasy hair; she hadn't even been aware it had been there. "These people are under my protection. I won't let you hurt them."

"Are they now? And how do you figure that?"

Alice looked at the creature, moving her head from side to side. Something was wrong. "What do _you_ eat?" it asked.

"The demonsouled. You should know about them, if you're a magical creature." Something raised a red flag in her mind right then, but she was too much into this confrontation to deal with it right then. Her territory was being threatened, and she didn't take kindly to that at all.

"The demonsouled? I must have been away for longer than I thought. I haven't seen one. What do they taste like?" Again, it licked its lips in a thoroughly horrible manner.

"Never mind. I can't allow you to stay here; you'll hurt some innocent human. This is my turf. Leave. Now. While you still can."

"Pretty sure of ourselves, aren't we?"

She extended her claws. They sprouted from her fingers, glowing silver in the night. Something was still wrong.

Wait.

This…this creature did not have a demon's soul.

There was a human's soul at its center. "You! Tin man! I told you to leave me alone!"

Cyborg dropped the holographic illusion that had been "Towd," and faced her squarely. "Well, I wasn't getting anywhere trying to talk to you. This seemed like a good idea. Why don't you just tell me what you're doing here, and why you're…doing what you're doing? 'Cause I know, deep down, you're the one we're looking for. Aren't you? The one responsible for the killings."

"I don't have to explain anything to you! I told you to _leave me the fuck alone!_" Suddenly, the girl swiped at him with those silvery claws, actually opening a shallow gash in his supposedly indestructible plandanium chest plate. Sparks flew, as he felt the feedback signal from his self-repair systems kick in.

"Whoa, there! I'm only trying to help! But I can't do that if I don't know what's going on! And don't say 'nothing's going on.' We both know that ain't true." While he was talking, he morphed his left arm into a sonic cannon. "You seem to care for these people, you talked about 'protecting' them. Either you're not doing a very good job, or your idea of 'caring' is very different from any I've encountered. Who are you protecting? And from what?"

"You wouldn't understand!"

"Try me."

Narrowed eyes. "And why should I?"

"Why shouldn't you? Or do you want to continue to live," and here he gestured around the trash-strewn alley, "like this? Suppose you beat me." He glanced down at his chest. "You might could. But what then? Do you _want_ to go toe-to-toe with every superhero who comes along?"

Suddenly, the girl stopped, and put the heel of her hand up to her forehead, closed her eyes, and choked. She did her best to muffle the sobs, but he could hear them perfectly well, and stood there waiting. A soft rain began to fall, the droplets splashing ringlets in nearby puddles. "You…you don't understand. The last guy I confided in…_they took him_. And, and. And did horrible things to him. _Horrible_ things."

"I've had some pretty horrible things done to me."

This actually brought forth smile, of sorts. A bitter one, but a smile, nonetheless. "Oh, Tin Man. You have _no idea._"

…

Some weeks before: "So what the hell is this thing?" Major Foster was staring up at the large ovoid object they'd come across, tracing the seismic vibrations that had troubled the region so. It was difficult to understand, but it looked as though a mountain had been broken apart _from the inside_…and something, something huge had made its way to this Somme weeks before: isolated evergreen forest at the base of the Himalayas. There was no evidence of whatever had tunneled up from the deep Earth, but following its trail had led them to this: an enormous off-white ovoid lying nestled in the small forest, in the thickest part of the trees. The thing was the size of a ranch-style house….a _big_ ranch-style house.

Specialist Duncan shook his head. "You're looking at it wrong, Major. Here, step back. Yes, a little farther. Farther still. Okay. Now. Hold up your hands, like you're framing for a shot, a photograph. Block out everything around the object. Just focus on it."

Foster did as he was told. For a long moment, he didn't get it. Then, his eyes widened. "My god. It's an _egg._"

_To be continued…_


	32. Chapter 32: Casualties

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results: Chapter 32: Casualties

….

_I don't own, etc._

…_._

Chapter 32: Casualties

Jump City: the present day:

Cyborg sat at the table at Ben's, in one of the specially reinforced chairs that establishment had bought for him, casually, very casually adding sugar to his coffee. He knew he'd have to watch that; he was only partly mechanical, and therefore actually needed far less of what humans call "food." So he elected to be careful of his sugar intake. His actual body mass, in terms of organic matter, wasn't as great as it used to be.

He sat in silence. He'd chosen a table just by the window for a reason.

"Okay," said a voice just to his right. "I'm here, and I'm listening. What did you want to say?"

Cyborg smiled. He'd suggested to her that they go someplace a bit more civilized, and thereupon proceeded to lead her, albeit reluctantly, back to the café. "Sit down. What would you like? Coffee? I'm even up for breakfast, if you like."

"Breakfast? It's nearly noon!"

"So?"

She thought a moment. Then, "Coffee. Black. And, uh, maybe scrambled eggs, biscuits and gravy." She held her head down as she said the words, as though she were ashamed at having to say them

Cyborg relayed the order to the waitress, then turned back to the girl. "What's your name?"

She snorted. "You think, just 'cause you buy me food, you buy me? No way."

"So what do I call you?"

She paused so long he wondered if she were going to answer at all. Then, "Alice. I'm Alice."

"Good. Now we're getting somewhere. I'm Vic, if you like, but I mostly answer to Cyborg. For," and here he held up his bionic arms, "somewhat obvious reasons."

She looked at him intently. "Vic? Like for Victor?"

"Yep. And I'm not trying to buy you. When was the last time you ate? I mean, regular food?"

"None of your business. I get by. I probably eat better than you do.

"That's possible, I guess. But….you do seem a bit underweight. Some eggs and biscuits certainly won't hurt you." Even as he spoke, the waitress arrived with Alice's order.

Alice's mouth watered as she took in the heady smells of the food before her. While it was true that she could live out of dumpsters, the allure of a hot, fresh meal was as intoxicating as any drug. _Careful, girl,_ she told herself, even as she dug in, _he's still a cop. He still won't understand. Don't let this go to your head._

Cyborg watched as Alice wolfed down her food. How many days, he wondered, had she gone without proper nutrition?

He let her eat. When she started on her coffee, he leaned back and said, casually, "Demonsouled, huh?"

She dropped her gaze, staring at the floor. Why? He wondered. It was like she was actually _embarrassed_ about something. Then he realized something.

She wasn't hiding her face because she was ashamed or shy or anything. She was hiding her face because of anger. Anger so intense that it was almost a palpable force, there in the cafeteria.

And yet he didn't believe the girl was a demon herself. It wasn't uncommon for demons to radiate such hatred, but, as a rule, humans just don't, no matter how mad they got.

"Demonsouled," she finally said.

"Where do they come from?"

"Who knows? But they get here, somehow." She still didn't raise her head.

"And you can detect them?" A nod of her head. "And they've…been targeted, in the recent past?" Another nod.

_Go for broke, Cy_. "What's going on here? What happened to you, that you can do…all this?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Why not?"

"'Cos _I_ don't understand it myself!" Again, more muffled sobs. "I just know…" But here she broke down completely, leaning over the table, her dirty hair falling over her plate.

Cyborg dared to reach out a hand to touch her wrist. "Look. Come back with me to the Tower. It's pretty obvious there's more going on here than anybody can solve sitting in a cafeteria. So come on. I give you my word I'm not gonna arrest you or anything. But…surely you can see I need to get some answers here. And I can help you. But you have to let me."

She finally got her tears under control. "I told you, the last guy I confided in…"

"The last guy you confided in wasn't me. I'm a little tougher than the average bear. And I got friends who are tougher still. If anybody can help you, it's us."

That was true, Alice thought. Fear had become such an integral part of her nature by now: fear of herself, her unnatural hunger, fear of being alone, fear of getting too close to someone, fear of those who were pursuing her….

It made sense. She wouldn't need to feed for a while yet. And, and….maybe just maybe….

Then she shook herself. No. It was better not to get her hopes up. These people, with their perfect lives, they'd never understand. And, and even if this Tin Man _did_ keep his word and not arrest her, there were plenty others there at their stronghold, this Tower, who would be altogether too happy to do so.

Then it occurred to her: if she couldn't find one of the demonsouled to feed upon…being arrested and confined in some space she couldn't get out of might just be what she was searching for. Was it possible for her to starve herself to death? She knew she'd sink into madness long before that happened, but, but….if they just kept her confined…

"Besides," the cyborg cop was saying, "Just this little bit of food won't help you a whole lot. I'd like to get our magic user to get a look at you…well, your case, anyway. She can't see you directly. And this _is_ what we're talking about, isn't it? Magic? Something's happened to you, or been done to you, and, and…I'm getting the impression that it's pretty awful. So let us help. Let _me_ help."

She pressed her hand up against her face. The temptation was sooo powerful…. "The Tin Woodman didn't have a heart, so the story goes."

"I bought mine on Ebay, two years ago. Got an extended warranty and everything. Works fine so far. And besides, you could use some personal attention. Like hygiene, an' stuff."

She gave him a look. "You sayin' I stink?"

"Yeah."

Pause. "At least you're honest about it." _So maybe you'll be more likely to be honest about other things, too._

…

Alice wasn't surprised that the cyborg co-* Make that _Cyborg_, she corrected herself, that Cyborg's car was just as high-tech as he was. There oughtta be a law against that much chrome, she thought, even as she squinted from the glare. He brought the vehicle around to the front of the café, reached over, and opened the door.

_Hmph,_ she thought. Apparently not so high-tech as to include an unlocker on the driver's side—oh, wait. He'd spread a blanket down over the faux leather seat on the passenger side. She ground her teeth. _Okay, cop,_ she thought, _let's see you go for a week without a bath, an' see how clean you stay. Whaddaya expect me to do, lick myself clean with my tongue?_ But she controlled herself and got in.

They started off. Cyborg (Victor? She was having a hard time getting used to the plandanium steel cybernetic organism next to her as having once been human. But she knew he had to have been, once. So maybe he would understand about what had happened to her…if she could understand it herself). "So. This Tower. That's the one out in the harbor?"

"Yeah. I'd like to consult with our magic user, Raven. You've said you don't really understand what's happened to you…do you know how it happened?

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. It had been so awful…even now.

But she had to own up to what happened sooner or later, or the repression of her own feelings would drive her insane. Already, she could feel a cold, bubbling knot within her…she didn't know if it was a by-product of what had made her like this, or just the natural result of an ordinary teenage girl being turned into something not the least bit natural. "I—*"

"_Cyborg?"_ A female voice suddenly sprang from the dashboard. _"Do you read?"_

He clicked a button. "I copy, Raven. And if you're replying on this frequency, something must be extremely wrong."

"_Something is. You'd best take the back door in."_ There was a brief pause, as if the speaker was striving to get herself under control. _"I'm afraid we…have a casualty."_

Alice looked at Cyborg, just in time to catch a very somber expression cross his face, one that no amount of metal could conceal. "Who?"

"_Garfield. Terra just brought him in. He's been shot."_

…_.._

_Okay, _thought Alice. _I didn't know squares thought like this._ Upon hearing that this "Garfield" (whoever that was) had been injured, Cyborg had immediately and without word turned down one avenue after another, until she herself couldn't keep up with all the twists and turns. Then he drove his T-car straight into what appeared to be a strangely empty garage, hit a switch on the dashboard, and….

….they were suddenly somewhere else. Some sort of underground parking area. "Out," he ordered, "and come with me. I've gotta get you situated."

"What's going on?"

"We may have just found ourselves in the midst of a shooting war."

"What happened? Who is Garfield?"

They were in the elevator, heading upward into the main Tower complex. "Friend of mine," he grunted. "I only hope…" He turned suddenly and looked at her. "These wouldn't be your play partners at work, would they?"

"No."

"Sure of that?"

"Yeah. The people I'm running from wouldn't be so kind as to use bullets."

He hustled her into a medium-small room littered with electronic components and, curiously, lacking a bed. Instead of a bed, there was a framework over by the closet, with an indented shape in the middle that seemed, at first glance, to fit him perfectly. So instead of a bed, he….plugged himself in at night? The thought almost made her laugh, but after all this time, it was like she'd forgotten how….

…_.._

Cyborg rushed into the infirmary. Raven, Hank, Athena and Blackfire were standing by the window into the OR, watching Kitten, Alpha, and Terra busy themselves around the quiescent form on the table that was their comrade. Terra's face looked drawn, her normal blue eyes almost seeming to be washed out by all the tears she'd shed.

Garfield lay underneath the medical machines. Cyborg wondered where Omega was; Garfield was just as much his friend…but then he saw the vid screens floating around the room. One reflected the Osiran's concerned gaze; several more showed the H.I.V.E Five. Several more showed other Titan groups: Titans East, Titans London, Titans Tokyo. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.

And one particular monitor showed the Doom Patrol, their faces almost as drawn as Terra's. Cyborg wasn't surprised. Mento and Elasti-girl were, after all, Garfield Logan's adopted parents. Were they about to lose their only child?

"Raven?" Cyborg came up beside her. "What's the score?"

"Gar got hit with sniper fire. It was no ordinary bullet, either. It's too soon to tell if it was cursed, or just full of nanoprobes, but it took him down far more rapidly than any normal projectile. I…haven't had the time to, to examine it…."

"Raven?" Athena directed her attention to yet another floating vid screen. "The Justice League is calling."

"Excuse me," said Raven. Only someone who knew her very well could tell the knife-edge of emotion she was walking on right then. Cyborg wouldn't have been surprised to see two pairs of eyes on her face. A quick glance at the H.I.V.E. Five's monitor showed concerned faces clustered around the remote pickup. Garfield really hadn't had any serious enemies, even among their normal opponents.

"_Cyborg?"_ Jinx's voice came over the line, _"can you tell us what's going on? Is Beast Boy alright?"_

"I don't know, Jinx. From what I'm hearing, it was a very serious attempt at assassination. I just got here, but I'm hearing the bullet was nonstandard, maybe tailored to his metabolism. You know he heals pretty quick. Hank?"

Hank, aka Haywire, just shook his head. "It barely missed his heart. Two centimeters…and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Jinx? You heard?"

"_Yeah."_

Blackfire spoke up. "I think we need to implement emergency procedures, don't you?"

"Yeah. Lemme consult with Rae just a minute….Rae?"

Raven was about to address the Martian Manhunter. She turned to look at Cyborg. "Yes, by all means."

Cyborg turned back to the monitor with the Five. "Okay, ya'll. This is what it means. Still with us?" Heads nodded; Gizmo and Control Freak both looked downright angry. They had known Garfield and Terra as friends.

Kid Flash, there with the Five, turned to them. "Everybody, let's get to the assembly point, ASAP." The screen blanked out. They'd be teleporting in via the quantum gates previously installed.

The other groups turned as one, preparing for their own relocation to the Tower, and to the hidden subterranean chambers previously owned by Slade. It wouldn't do for them to be divided up, even if they were spread out, all across the world.

Things had just taken a turn for the worse.

Raven was still talking to J'onn J'onzz. "We know no more than that, at this juncture. I think it needless to say, we are…somewhat perturbed by this turn of events."

"_Raven, we understand. Garfield Logan is, after all, of our community. While our recent…differences have served to create tension, I'd like to stress that __none__ of us here can, would, or did sanction an outright assassination attempt. Can you tell us his condition?"_

"At present, no." She glanced over at Athena, whose senses could pick up the conversations within the OR. Raven noted, belatedly, that Father Alpha himself was here, taking a hand in matters. To her, that had a chilling effect: if the leader of the Kindred felt his on-site presence was required, matters must be serious, indeed. "But, frankly, it seems grave."

"_Raven…we understand your pain. Please realize this is not the time to make hasty decisions. Indeed, that may have been the whole purpose of this attempt." _J'onn glanced at Superman and Wonder Woman, who flanked him on either side. Raven noted Captain Atom behind them. _"We know you've a legitimate grievance. Please let us try to find out what happened, and perhaps a way to defuse this situation without the need for further bloodshed. Perhaps we can get to the bottom of this peacefully."_

Raven was silent for a moment, her eyes downcast. She raised her head and opened her eyes—and another set opened up on her forehead. She glanced at the floating screen showing Talks-to-God. Then, she spoke in clipped tones, edged with anger. "We would be most interested in hearing your suggestions; however, I believe I speak for us all when I say we would find it difficult to the point of impossibility to accept such countermeasures as a polite lodging of a formal grievance before the parties responsible.

"As I said, we would be interested in hearing your recommendations. You have twenty-four hours to come up with something appropriate. After that time, our own means of redress will begin to seem much more attractive. Titans out." And she cut the communications.

On board the watchtower: J'onn J'onzz breathed out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "My friends," he said, turning to the group that had crowded around the monitor array. "I seriously doubt that an ultimatum has ever been delivered more politely."

_To be continued..._


	33. Chapter 33: Provocations

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

….

Chapter 33: Provocations

…..

"…..Dammit, _who's responsible for this Sharknado?"_ General Warren Rogers had two land-line phones semi permanently attached to either side of his face, half a dozen cells chiming on the desk in front of him, and two screens also clamoring for attention. Almost before the sound of the shot had ceased to reverberate among the Rocky Mountains where Garfield and Terra had lived, he'd been on the phones, trying to find out which department the order that brought down one of the Titans had come from. So far, he had found a great deal of nothing. "Whoever did this is _dead meat._ I'll have their asses on a _plate_! _And_ hand them over to the Titans! They may have just started World War Last. Shirley! Get me Putin on the line! _Some_body's gotta know _some_thing!"

"Sir…" An aide spoke up. "This might be a good time to check with the League."

"Damn right it's a good time. Eyes! Get me the Watchtower!"

The members of the Justice League hadn't even had time to disperse when the call came in. _"J'onn? What's going on?"_

"You mean you don't know?"

"_I know one of the Titans got shot, a sniper. Beyond that, I'm as much in the dark as you are. What can you tell me about the situation?"_

"I can tell you it's grave, sir. The Titans are pulling in their members, preparing for open warfare. The strategic situation isn't good. They've a considerable amount of allies, at this moment, and all of them have just been placed on high alert. We noticed that the Hunter starships _Deson_ and _Exor_ have moved from their orbit into a geosynchronous one just above Titans' Tower. To me, this is…troublesome. We've no idea as to their firepower, but it's worth noting both ships were among those that invaded, and evidently had a hand in the destruction of Apokolips not all that long ago. And our xenopsychologists believe they will side with the Titans in any conflict. Given all these factors, I think you'd be wise to initiate a Defcon Stage Two alert at this time."

"_It's that bad?"_

"If Changeling dies, it could easily be worse."

…

Not long ago: Major Foster had just radioed in for further instructions regarding the disposition of the giant egg they'd found (and detailed a squad to search for whatever had laid such a titanic thing…how hard could it be to locate something that size?), when he heard a hubbub arising from the men assigned to guard the titan egg. Emerging from the tent, just then putting away the secure wireless phone, he saw something that chilled him to the bone: cracks were appearing in the massive egg, spreading across it. It was hatching.

But _what_ was hatching?

_Rorek's consciousness sank into the new body he'd incubated inside the giant subterranean's egg. He'd had to make constant changes, but he'd chosen this titanic form so he'd have enough raw materials to work with. What would normally give birth to a dweller in the deep Earth would now play host to a very different kind of creature._

_His magic followed him into his new human form, and he emerged from the egg, to see the assembled crowd outside pointing what he supposed were weapons at him. "Good day, gentle sirs. I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting."_

…_._

The Here and Now: "It's wrong," muttered Batman, sitting in front of his monitor in his alternative HQ.

"Agreed," said Rorek, standing alongside him, arms crossed, once again attired in his usual tunic and trousers, his mask, a tradition of his clan of warrior wizards, covering the lower half of his face. "T'is a cowardly attack, completely lacking in honor."

"It's more than that. It's…too convenient, coming right now, with tensions what they are. If somebody was _trying _to start a conflict, this would be the way they'd do it."

"You suspect treachery?"

"It's more than a mere suspicion. But what I can't figure out is, who could possibly benefit from all this?"

Rorek was pensive. "Among my people…there are legends, long thought to be myths, about beings who feed off of others' pain and suffering. Perhaps they are not so mythical after all."

Batman nodded. "That would fit. But how could we find out? I can't go to Raven with a _myth_."

Rorek's face took on a thousand yard stare. "I…believe the being who brought me into this day and age might well have been of that nature. If you give me leave, I shall go investigate the scene of the Changeling's misfortune."

Soon, Rorek found himself in the wooded area just bordering the Logan's estate in Colorado. He spread out his hands, searching for familiar energy patterns…and finding them.

"_Batman?"_ His voice came clearly over the specially shielded commlink. _"I am certain of it now. The Face in the Crimson flame is behind this attack. I am clearly sensing the manna of the Cold Woman. I-*"_ At that exact moment, he felt something sharp and ice-cold pierce him through from the back, and saw the razor-sharp ice shard emerge from his chest.

Life faded.

_You were clumsy, Mirissa. The fool was able to contact his associate._

"He will contact no one else, ever again, my lord." Mirissa's voice was edged with smug contempt. "Would only that he had suffered more, before the end."

_You rejoice prematurely. I do not sense his demise._

"But…but how can that be?" Mirissa looked down at the lifeless body at her feet. Rorek lay unmoving, blood pooling beneath his still form, the ice blade she'd created protruding from his back. She could see no movement, no drawing of breath, none of the little signs that indicate a no-longer-functioning body. This body was dead….

…and in that instant, she realized it, and cursed herself for a fool. Rorek had somehow created another body for himself, to house his essence.

There was nothing that said he was limited to creating just one at a time.

_We must act quickly, Mirissa. I must take advantage of this turmoil, this delicious pain, whilst I still can._

….

Batman's alternate Batcave: Rorek 1 shook off the shock effects of having one of himselves killed. "Now, I am doubly assured of it. A trap within a deception. It could hardly be clearer."

"That's what I need. I only hope Raven is open-minded about this…." He punched in the comm codes for Titans' Tower. "Raven? Batman. I believe I may have found out who is responsible for your teammate's shooting."

"_I am listening."_

"First, let me introduce my associate, who aided me in acquiring this information. I believe you two know each other." He put Rorek on the screen. Rorek had to keep his distance from any high-end tech, lest the very magical fields he routinely used disrupt the function of delicate electronics. All magic users had this handicap, to one degree or another.

It was a measure of Raven's own anger at recent events that her eyes only widened a little bit. She had her mind on other things. "_Rorek_?"

"The same. It appears I was badly misinformed about you, Madame. I offer my sincerest apologies for my recent actions."

"_Noted_." Batman noticed that Raven _didn't_ say said apologies were accepted. But he'd expected no less. Raven was not always a very forgiving sort. _"I gather you've news regarding our recent travails?"_

Then Batman saw one of the other Titans, the one they called Blackfire, gesturing to Raven from behind. _"Rae? I don't mean to intrude on your conversation, but look."_

"_What is it?"_

"_Radar's showing thirty-seven missiles headed our way. Scans show 'em to be high-yield nuclear warheads. It would seem somebody wants us extremely dead."_

Raven's face showed no expression whatsoever. Batman admired her self-control. _"I'll have to get back to you. Something's come up."_

…

Titans' Tower: "How good are our shields?" Raven asked.

Athena responded. "They're more than adequate to handle these missiles. But they aren't designed to shield the entire city, nor the region around it."

"The Kindred?"

"The Kindred's force-screen can shield the entire city, but its radius is still limited. The city would be unharmed, but the area around it would be reduced to a radioactive wasteland. To say nothing of seismic effects."

Raven chewed a knuckle, a very Robin-y habit. "I can't believe the US military would launch such an attack, especially knowing civilians are in the area. Orb?"

_**{{I am here, friend Raven.}}**_

"Can you teleport these missiles somewhere far enough away?"

_**{{Normally, yes. But there is some force inhibiting me from doing so. I can shield you and a large portion of the city from the attack, but something is hindering me. I have only felt its like once before. I can teleport thirty-four of the closest ones, but I cannot seem to grasp the remaining three.}}**_

"What about the Entity?" asked Athena.

"His help more often than not comes with a price." Raven thought fast. They still hadn't located Robin or Starfire, who'd gone missing days ago. "Athena, you and Blackfire go intercept those missiles. Athena, you take the one from the northeast, Komi, grab the one coming from the southeast. Throw 'em into the stratosphere."

"What about the last one?"

"I'll take it. I can absorb into my soul-self. It can explode in Nevermore-*" At that very moment, she felt the sharp sting of the hypospray and reeled, falling. Hank caught her, and she could see Kitten holding the 'spray, over her. "Sorry, Rae. You're our leader; we can't risk you."

Cyborg turned to Omega. "Can you do anything with that crystal?"

"_No. I'm in the final stages of programming. I can't interrupt that."_

"Then I'll take it." He headed towards the elevator at a dead run. Hank followed right behind him. "No, Hank, you need to stay here and take care of Rae."

"No, I _need_ to work that hoodoo that I do so well on the missile's warhead. I can keep it from detonating. Maybe." Hank's specialized form of telekinesis allowed him to grasp matter on the subatomic level, but he was still working through the limits of what he could and could not do.

Alice stayed in Cyborg's room, figuring he'd come for her soon. She didn't really want to face their magic user, this _Raven_, alone. The last magic users she'd dealt with….she shuddered.

But suddenly, she heard his disembodied voice coming from the intercom. _"Alice? Hang tight. Don't leave the room. I'll be back in a moment, but I gotta go take care of some really urgent business. Just chill; everything's cool."_ But she could tell from his tone of voice, that everything was _not_ "cool."

In jet mode, Cyborg's T-Car closed in on the last missile. "Can you get it from here?"

Haywire was seated in the passenger seat, buckled in, his head leaning against the passenger side window. If they hadn't been travelling at such a high rate of speed, he'd have rolled the window down, so as to have fewer obstacles between him and the missile. But with the T-Car moving at intercept velocities….

"I…think I can. This….this is gonna hurt…" And he closed his eyes and concentrated on the plutonium core of the missile's warhead.

Slowly, slowly, with greater and greater effort, he exerted his will onto the radioactive matter. Its nuclei were highly unstable, and it wouldn't take much to start a chain reaction resulting in a nuclear fireball over the city. Ever so carefully, he squeezed the nuclei together, plucking, altering, robbing them of their more energetic neutrons, channeling those away and up into the atmosphere…

He groaned with the effort, pain rapidly becoming the only thing in his world. There were so many of the damned things! "Cy…w-whatever you're gonna do, you'd best do it quick. I…I can't hold this long."

"Right." Cyborg depressed a virtual button on the dashboard's console, and a bomb-bay door opened beneath the car, allowing a missile of his own to emerge. "Kept this little baby for….well, actually, I don't know what I was keeping it for." He flicked a switch, and the missile launched, zeroing in on the rogue nuke.

It caught up with the other missile, and clamped itself to the missile's side. Cyborg fiddled with the controls, the T-Car on autopilot.

The Titans' missile came even more alive that it had been, its tail end spouting flames, as it endeavored to drag the rogue missile upwards, away from its target. But the missile resisted, its own guidance system struggling to right itself, to send it onward towards its kamikaze annihilation…

"Okay. That's the way you wanna play it?" Cyborg murmured. He hadn't wanted to use this, due to the danger of radiation, but he saw no choice. The city was fast coming up on his screen.

He flipped another switch, opening a small panel, revealing a very special button. He pressed it…. "Hang on, Hank!"

Immediately, the interceptor missile collapsed into a singularity, a miniature black hole. The rogue missile, still attached to it, followed suit. Now came the hard part.

He flipped some more switches, spraying the area with energy dampening fields. The mini-black hole, too small to be stable, let go with a thunderous explosion, rocking the T-Car with the atmospheric shock waves.

He checked and rechecked with his instruments, making sure there was no residual radiation. There didn't appear to be any. Thank God. "Okay, people. We got one. Status?"

"_Athena and I got the other two."_

"Good." Only then did he turn his attention to Hank, who was slumped over in his seat, semi-conscious, blood dripping from his nose. "We may need another bed in the infirmary."

…

"I'm fine, I tell you. Just a nosebleed. Had to concentrate on all those atoms…"

"Just the same, if we had it, you'd have earned a Purple Heart." Raven stood by his bed, watching the read-outs.

He took her hand, and she sat on the bed beside him. "There's only one heart I want."

…

"…_can tell you with absolute certainty, Raven, that the US military was not behind this recent attack. We would have been bombing our own people, our own personnel, not to mention civilians. And no department I've been able to query has admitted to any responsibility whatsoever. And all that goes double for the shooting of your friend."_

"I sense your sincerity, General. But it does not change the fact that we _were_ attacked. Only now it's become 'attacked by persons unknown.' And, something that should concern you as much as anyone…whoever _did_ attack us had access to US military command codes. Those weren't home-made rockets." She straightened up a bit, as much as she could, given her height. "Perhaps you can see how that makes us…a trifle uneasy."

"_Raven, I can't deny that the US government may authorize actions against you, in an effort to neutralize the threat we see the hypercrystal as being. But no such authorization has occurred, on any level I can locate. I believe there is the distinct possibility that someone may be orchestrating recent events so as to deliberately provoke your group."_

"And they would be?"

He spread his hands. _"I've no idea. But nobody affiliated with any level of the government I can access has authorized such force, either the shooting or the missile attack._

"_I tell you all this because I know you, and your allies, do present a significant threat, should you feel it necessary to take such steps. So please. Bear with us. Please bear with __me._ _As of this time, at least, I'm actually on your side in this matter."_

Raven considered. "Very well, general. I'll order a stand-down. But we—and our allies—will remain at a level of high alert. Whoever did commit these acts….is probably not through."

_To be continued…_


	34. Chapter 34: A New Ally?

Tales of the Titans: Godwar, Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 34: A New Ally?

…..

_Character of Alice and the Crimson are both used by permission of walkerjordan963. Thank you, Jordan!_

…_.._

Chapter 34: A New Ally?

…_._

_So, Mirissa. The missile attack failed, as expected. Have you the second stage prepared?_

"Yes, My lord. The portal into the Midwest is ready to be opened, whenever you desire."

….

Cyborg appeared at the doorway to his room. Alice was inside, flipping through a magazine she'd found. Evidently, he didn't have _everything_ on digital storage, and for that, she was glad. Her computer skills weren't the best, and she wasn't sure if her condition would interfere further with what few she had. "Okay. Next order of business. You ready?"

She got up and followed him out into the corridor. He'd found some clothes for her to wear; nondescript jeans and a pullover. Terra had donated some underwear, as they were about the same size.

Down the hallway to the elevator. They got on, and he pressed the button for the top floor. Once there, he led her to Raven's office, where a recovered Hank was waiting for them along with the sorceress. Cyborg had specified Hank, being fully organic and nonmagical.

Into Raven's office they went. Raven looked up from her desk. "Victor? I thought you said you were going to bring someone up here?"

But Hank was nodding. "He's right, Rae. I see her, but you don't."

"You mean, there _is_ somebody there, beside him?"

"Yeah, Rae." Cyborg turned to Alice, although to Raven it seemed like he turned to an empty space. "Raven, this is Alice. Alice, say something. See if she can hear you."

"Uhm, h-hello. I—I'm Alice." Raven was a bit more intimidating than her small stature would indicate.

But Raven just looked puzzled. She glanced at Hank. "Did you hear anything?"

"Clear as day. I gather you didn't?"

"No, not a thing." She got up and came around from behind her desk, approaching the spot the others indicated where Alice was. She stretched forth her hands, feeling for some magical vibration…

Nothing. She couldn't sense anything of the girl in front of her, not visually, audibly, nor magically. Feeling her way forward, as if in the dark, she tried to see if she could touch Alice. "Don't be alarmed, er, Alice, is it? I just need to see if you're undetectable to all my senses." Alice winced as Raven's fingers moved towards her head….

….and slipped away, as though repelled by a magnetic field. "I can't…I can't feel anything there. Am I in the right spot?" Both Cyborg and Hank nodded. Raven withdrew, and moved back to her desk, leaning up against it. "Well, it seems you're invisible to me. You say your bionic eye can't sense her, either, Cyborg? That's….unheard of. And she can't be detected by any mechanical means?"

"That's right. I noticed something peculiar on the security cameras at the apartment where, uh…" He hesitated. "Well, you know."

"Yes, let's get that out of the way. You called these people 'demonsouled'?" She addressed the girl she couldn't see. "Can you tell us about that?"

Alice hesitated. She didn't wish to incriminate herself, but she honestly didn't see how she could make things worse right now. They certainly knew. She sighed. "There's…some people out there who aren't people. I call 'em demonsouled. I can…can sense them. They're not human. And, and they kill. Brutally. They seem to enjoy it. I don't know exactly how, but it's like….like their souls have been removed and something else, something horrible, put in place of them." Cyborg relayed what she said, word for word. Alice lifted her head, even though she knew Raven couldn't see the gesture. "So I kill them. And, and that helps me, 'cause….I have to consume souls. Or," she flapped her hands in a gesture Raven couldn't see, "whatever you want to call the immortal part. If I don't, I, I go a kind of crazy. And, and then _I_ kill. Only I'm not…" She sighed. They'd never believe her. She wasn't sure she believed herself. "Not in control. I guess you could say it's like a vampire. I've been feeding on the demonsouled, so I won't, won't kill humans."

"And how do you do this, this feeding? I'm told there aren't even any bodies left."

"There's not." She lifted her hands, her silvery claws extending fully six inches long from the ends of her fingers. There was no way those claws could have fit back inside her fingers, yet they evidently did just that. "There's nothing left."

"I see. And how did all this come about? How did you come to be this way?"

Alice sighed. "Could I sit? This…this is gonna take a while." Hers was an incredible story, but she knew if anyone would believe her, it was these people.

"I grew up in the Sisters of Mercy Orphanage. Pretty ordinary, at least I guess it was. But when I was fourteen, this couple came to adopt me. I was so excited. Finally, I'd have real parents, a real home. I felt I was so lucky. Kids that old don't usually get adopted; everybody wants babies.

"It was all a lie. They didn't want a daughter; they wanted a guinea pig. Or maybe a sacrifice, I'm still not sure. Maybe both.

"I don't really remember all that much about what happened once we got 'home.' Only that it wasn't a _home_, but a, a base of some kind. I was kept locked in a cell. I know they ran a whole bunch of tests on me, but the one they seemed to focus on, at least so it seemed to me, was my…my virginity. That seemed to be more important than anything else."

Raven nodded. "Some dark magical spells can only be performed on virgins. Apparently, they were grooming you for such."

"Too right. Then I remember being in a room, a dark room, tied down on some kinda crystal. It hurt. I mean, it hurt way more than, than just lying on a hard crystal would normally hurt. It was like….I can't even describe what it was like. Only that it was horrible. I know I screamed and screamed. For all the good it did.

"When they got through with me, they threw me back in that cell. I could barely move, I could barely think. And, and I _felt_ different. Like I was _tainted_ somehow. Like I'd been poisoned or something.

"They left me there. Oh, they'd throw in some food every now and then. I ate. But the whole time, something was growing in me, a, a desire, a lust I had never felt before. It was thoroughly unpleasant. _Is _thoroughly unpleasant. I kept asking them about it, but they never communicated with me. I mean, _never._ It was like they just had nothing to say to me.

"It got bad. Like real bad. I wasn't sure of anything anymore. It was like I couldn't breathe…you know how, when you're being held underwater, after a while you gotta breathe, anyway? Chest burns, everything? It wasn't like that exactly…and yet it was.

"And then they threw in some guy. I don't even know who he was. At the time, I didn't care. I…I ate him." Again, she looked at her claws. "These. They're…more than just claws. I can, can absorb people and souls through them.

"So that's what I did. It came naturally to me, a reflex, like. It was over before I even realized it….and there wasn't a trace of the guy left.

"So I'm a murderer." She fell silent, while Cyborg relayed her last words to Raven. "I deserve to die. _But I can't._ I've…I've _tried_." She put the heel of her hand up to her head, but the tears still fell. She sniffled. "I've tried to…exact justice on myself. _I can't die._ I've poisoned myself, I've shot myself, I've tried electrocution. _Nothing works._ I, I just…get better."

Cyborg got through relaying Alice's words to Raven, who nodded sympathetically. She could identify with the girl. If what she was telling was true-and Raven saw nothing to indicate otherwise, though, she had to admit to herself, she couldn't sense the girl directly, and so couldn't tell if she was sincere or not—she'd essentially been turned into a monster. Raven could definitely identify with someone with a dark, twisted side that wasn't always under her control. "Do you have any idea why they did this to you?"

The girl shook her head. "They never spoke to me. Not once. I never heard a human voice, the whole time I was, was…there.

"I got extremely lucky. There was a power outage that evidently affected all the underground area where I was being held. I got out…my claws can slash through anything…and made my way to the surface. To be honest, I don't know how I managed to escape being seen—I didn't know at the time that I was invisible to electronics—but I managed to find my way out onto the street.

"I had nowhere to go, but I figured anywhere was better than where I was."

"Could you guide us back there?"

Alice sniffled, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of the shirt Cyborg had given her. "I—I think so."

Raven looked up at Cyborg and Hank. "Things are happening too fast for us to do much about Alice, for right now, but it might be a good idea to send someone to this place. I'm pretty sure there's nothing there now—at least, nothing that would benefit us in this case—but there could be-*"

"No!" Alice cried out. "You don't understand! I know you guys have powers, but, but these people….you've got _no idea_ about them! I've seen them cut somebody apart while he was still alive! I can still hear the screams…"

"Vivisections. I've heard of some cults and groups that use such methods, especially if they need, for some reason, to excite powerful emotions. Sacrifices. These sound almost like many demoniacal cults…but from what you say, they seemed more technologically based. And they evidently had some sort of legal standing; otherwise, they'd never have been able to adopt you in the first place." She sighed. Too much was going on. "Alice? I want you to know that you can stay here. I don't know how we'll get around this hunger of yours, but we'll find a way. Cyborg, I'm detailing you to look into that. However, at the moment, we seem to be under attack. Will you be okay here? Nobody's arresting you or anything, but we do need to get to the bottom of what's happened to you soon. Will you be okay while we sort these other matters out?"

"I—I don't know. I, I fed," she grimaced, "not long ago. I should be good for at least two weeks, if my past experience is any guide."

"Good. Now, if you should need it, will it be okay if we confine you? We'll have to come with something, some way of containing you, but I'd like to avoid that, if possible."

"Don't," said Alice, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "I may need…confinement. I…if it comes to it, I'm okay with that."

…

Batman wasn't surprised by Raven's call. _"We were interrupted last time. I believe you were about to impart some information?"_

….

LimboTown: Beulah Bleak observed ongoing events from afar. So far, things were moving far too slowly for her comfort.

She'd sent out the signal months ago. What she'd summoned should have been here by now. But it wasn't. And she most definitely didn't want to be on the surface of the planet when it _did_ show up.

Had that entity, the one they called Typhon, _destroyed_ it? It was possible. If so, all her careful planning and preparation had been for naught. But how could she have known there was a being _that_ powerful in orbit around the planet, let alone one that would take an interest in the course of human events?

And this Entity….another complication, but one she thought she'd accounted for. But perhaps not.

The only thing to do was to return to the surface world and once again endeavor to summon the thing she'd sensed or one like it. Only then, once it had come, and razed the Earth, could things begin to get back to normal. Of course, that would mean the death of every living thing on the surface, but if that's what it took to safeguard her people and those like her, so be it.

Then her cruciform, carefully woven from briarthorn boughs, twitched. Beulah Bleak smiled. So. What she had summoned was indeed on its way.

Good. Things were looking up.

_To be continued…._


	35. Chapter 35: Reflections in Time's Mirror

Tales of the Titans: Godwar, Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 35: Reflections in Time's Mirror

…..

_I don't own the Teen Titans._

…_.._

Chapter 35: Reflections in Time's Mirror

Far, far down in the Earth's mantle, on a subterranean continent floating on the outskirts of the molten core of the planet, the Fallen One looked up. Once again, events on the surface were moving towards an apocalyptic scenario.

He knew full well what Beulah Bleak had summoned, and why. From what he had seen so far, there was an equal chance that the being known as _Typhon_ would intercede and that he would not. There was no real way to predict that.

But unlike Bleak, he was unsure of the survival of his realm and those in it, should what was summoned arrive. Perhaps it was time to secure his fortress and those that belonged to him, and leave this dimension altogether.

Also, there was the small matter of the human called _Robin_ and the one he was married to. The Fallen One could not sense them, either in the realms of the living or the dead, and this boded ill.

The disappearance of the subterranean continent would be likely to cause some seismic effects on the upper world, but there was no helping that.

…

"Raven? You might want take a look at this." Hank tone was more somber than Raven had ever heard.

"What is it?" She looked over the reports he'd had printed out. Raven had trouble using computers, not due to lack of knowledge, but because high-end electronics tended to malfunction around her. So he'd taken to just running off paper copies. It saved on computer repair bills.

As she looked over the reports, her face blanched. Yes, it was all here, just as the girl, Alice (whom Raven still couldn't perceive in any way), had said: Unit 731, World War II. Vivisections. Inhumane experiments carried out on helpless people and animals. And no prosecution? "How did they manage that?" she asked him. "These would _have_ to be considered war crimes."

"The party line is they were pardoned in exchange for their medical knowledge. But that doesn't compute. The Nazis also had 'medical knowledge' acquired in ways that, frankly, I don't like to think about. But for these people to be pardoned….Raven, how long have the governments of the world been aware of Trigon?"

"Eh? Trigon? What do you mean?"

"I mean, we've had the Church of Blood since the Crusades, but it's never been linked, definitely, to demon worship. Could it be possible….just maybe…that these people were pardoned, not for medical knowledge, but for _mystical_ knowledge?"

Raven's eyes widened. "And the whole thing hushed up. Of course…they couldn't very well come out and say they'd come into knowledge of a demon world." Trigon's words still resounded in her ears: _**{{You yet retain too much mortality to fully comprehend the scope of their actions. But this much I say, that you can comprehend: to you and your friends, I extend the offer of sanctuary, here in my domain.}}**_

The world, the planet Earth, was becoming a dangerous place to be a Titan. Could it be they'd fare better under her father's protection? They'd be together, a family, in a place unreachable by man….

But no. There was more at stake than mere survival here. And they had allies to consider. She doubted they'd see the attraction of sanctuary in Hell, no matter whose father was in charge.

"Alright. So…we're assuming they got wind of some information of a mystical nature. But, Hank, I don't think it's about my father. The world hasn't known about him all that long….oh, there was the prophecy, but even when it was happening, I was the only one who knew what it truly meant. I'm sure if there'd been any records of Trigon's existence, let alone a way of, of contacting him, that Robin would have turned it up. Besides…." She leaned on her desk and bit a nail. "It's…off, somehow. Trigon wants to rule this dimension, yes, but, to be perfectly fair, he really doesn't get anything out of mortals' pain, on least on this level. He wants the souls of humans, yes, but…this group…it sounds like they were dealing with a being who fed on pain and suffering in the here and now. That's not really Trigon's style." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her crossed arms on her desk. "And, ever since Trigon tried to invade this dimension….it's hard to explain, but…even though he was defeated, and, I thought, destroyed, he still left his, his _mark_ on the place. Something like the way a bear marks his territory, reaching up and scratching claw marks as high as he can go. This warns off lesser bears.

"Trigon sort of imprinted upon this dimension. Other dimension-hopping demons would hesitate to invade." She narrowed her eyes. "Unless….."

"Rae?"

"Unless we're talking about something that's already here."

…

Kitten was sitting in the room she now shared with Omega, staring at the mirror, feeling like she could just kill him.

She knew his programming of the hypercrystal was important, okay, she got that. But their relationship was important, too! And he'd been spending way too much time on that hunk of junk for her liking.

Her gaze must have slipped from the mirror, because the next thing she knew, his arms were going around her from behind. "Kitten?"

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "You mean, you _finally_ managed to tear yourself away from that crystal? To _what_ do I owe the _honor_ of this most _glorious_ visit?"

He winced at her sarcasm. He knew he deserved it; he'd been spending far too much time with the crystal and not nearly enough with her. He knew this, himself, newcomer though he was, to the world of emotional living. "You're absolutely right. I know. I've been…neglectful of you." He released her, and she _hmmph'd_ herself out of his grasp. "Can you forgive me?"

Her eyes followed the line of the wall upwards. "Why ever for? You've only been doing what you _need_ to do, to, like, _save the entire universe._ I can't _possibly_ get mad at you for something as, as _vital_ as that. Now can I?"

He sighed. Yes, this was a bad one.

…..

"Athena?"

"Yes?"

"Have you given any more thought about those strange packages we've been receiving? You know…the 'secret admirer' thing?" She was referring to the deliveries of golden roses to their room, with no return address, and a cryptic note in each one. The last one had been more troubling than the previous ones: _You cannot trust him. She is in danger._

"Quite. However, I am no closer to any conclusion save that which we have both already come to: we must not trust the Entity, not fully, at least, and that 'she'—which we both surmise to be Raven—is in danger. My guess is that she is in danger of making a hasty decision regarding assimilation, but, of course, that may not be it at all. But who and what this 'secret admirer,' this 'Asmodeus,' could be, that I do not know. Any more than I can know the whereabouts of Robin or your sister. It is as though they vanished from the face of existence."

"I know." Blackfire turned over in their bed, resting her head on her lover's shoulder. "That….worries me more than it should. I mean, I know my sister; she's a wonderful and very loving sort of person, but sometimes that love can lead her to make some…unwise decisions, I guess you'd have to say. And she's still eaten up with guilt over…you know.

"And Robin….even though he's forgiven her, and I think he'll make a great dad…is still Robin. He can't help that any more than the sky can help but be blue."

Athena smiled. "Not all planets have blue skies."

Komi sighed, lying back on her back, gazing up at the ceiling. "I know. Some have very dark skies indeed."

…

Omega and Kitten lay on their reinforced bed. It had taken him quite a lot of apologizing, and promising to do better, to get her to finally agree to begin to forgive him. That jealous streak of hers was just one more thing about her that he loved.

"You've come a long way," she said, her head resting on his chest. In spite of the fact that he was invulnerable, it didn't feel like she was resting her head on solid steel or anything. True, he felt….different, in a way hard to describe, but not like metal or steel.

"I have? What do you mean?"

"When you first came here, you didn't know the first thing about being human, being an emotional being. You've learned a lot since then. And I DON'T mean just about the sex part. Though you're pretty darn good there, too."

"I had a good teacher. Have a good teacher."

"You better believe it." She sobered, looking up at him. "Omega? Serious question here. When we….do it…can you, like, _feel_ me? I mean, you are supposed to be invulnerable….can you feel the…sensation of, of touch?"

He held her a little closer, always careful to gauge his movements. Osirans were made of a much denser form of matter than humans, or, indeed, anything in the human universe, so he had to exercise extreme care with her. "Yes. I can. I don't know how it compares to how a human would feel, but to me, it is….wonderful."

She smiled, putting her head back down on his chest, making small sounds of satisfaction. "Good to know. And I know for a fact I can feel you."

"Kitten?"

"Hmmm?"

"Two things."

"Shoot."

"Let's set a date. And soon, too."

Her head popped up, her mouth agape with surprise. "What? You mean…."

"I did ask you to marry me. As I recall, your answer was yes. So. Might we not set a date for the ceremony?"

….

"So. Are you certain?" General Rogers leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the monitor in front of him. "Certain beyond a shadow of a doubt?"

"_Yes, sir. There's absolutely no record of where those missiles came from. We've checked every location that's even rumored to've once house such warheads, and there's none missing. It's like these just….came out of nowhere."_

"Well, we know they didn't come out of nowhere. So…no 'surplus' ordnance or anything like that? Nothing overlooked from the Cold War?"

"_We've checked and rechecked, sir. There's nothing."_

The general bit his lip. "Then….that only leaves us with one possibility, doesn't it?"

…

"How's he doing?" Blackfire put her hand on Terra's shoulder. Garfield was still in critical condition, the victim of an unknown sniper's bullet. There was a monitor in the waiting room, showing him floating, suspended within the Orb's ink-black "substance."

"No change." Terra's voice was the voice of one who'd cried all her tears out and had nothing left. "Raven is now leaning towards the 'cursed bullet' theory. Father Alpha couldn't find anything, any scientific reason why it….did the damage it did. And…and, although nobody's said so, I can kinda hear it in everybody's voice: it might be something even the Orb can't fix."

Komi knelt down beside the distraught young wife, putting her arm around her. "Surely not. Isn't the Orb supposed to be a nascent god or something? How could any mere curse be a problem for it?" But Terra just hugged herself and rocked back and forth, silently.

….

"Alright, people." Raven was addressing the entire assembly of Titans and allies from the communication room. Each locus was represented by its own monitor, and the members of that group looked on. Raven still couldn't get over most the H.I.V.E. Five as becoming their _allies._ There was a time when she would have thought that impossible.

But aside from the other branches of Titans, the Kindred, and the Hunters, overhead, in their starships, one monitor showed Jinx, Kid Flash, Billy Numerous, Control Freak, Johnny Rancid, Kid Wykkyd, Angel, Private H.I.V.E., and Punk Rocket, among others.

Allies.

"Here's our game plan, people."

…

"Sir? You might wanna take a look at this."

General Rogers crossed over to the screen in the ops room. What he saw chilled him to the bone.

The Titans had, rather than hole up in one spot, returned to their respective command centers. Those command centers had been reinforced with Kindred-forged materials of awesome strength. And, each tower sported a force field capable of turning any nuclear assault. This field was broad enough to encompass the entire city wherein they resided. In essence, the Titans had established a beachhead in Jump City, Steel City, London, Moscow, Tokyo, and several others.

The attack on the Titans' Tower had become common knowledge among the human population of those cities, and many civilians were attempting to relocate so as to be within the protective shield those Towers promised. The Titans had secured what amounted to fiefdoms, and spread out so as to no longer be vulnerable to individual attack. "Could…could they _hold_ those, those cities? I mean, goods, supplies…"

"Evidence indicates they've fortified their towers with Kindred technology. Food, water, none of that would be a problem, regardless of how many people get crammed in there. They've basically got themselves some forts. And forts can be used as bases for military attacks, sorties out into enemy territory. This is a bit more of an aggressive stance than before. Plus they've got those quantum gates they can use at a moment's notice to move people back and forth. And remember: the Hunters are on their side, ready to run supplies, materials, whatever you name. And, aside from the League, we can't do zilch about it." The officer looked grim. "Judging from this alone, I'd say there was a possibility—maybe not a strong one, but one nonetheless—that they plan on going on the offensive at some point."

Rogers groaned and held his head. "And the Justice League? What about them?"

"They maintain that if the Titans will only turn over the crystal, they'll back down. But what we're looking at, from the Titans' viewpoint, is that the crystal isn't even important anymore. War's been declared on them. They're preparing for a siege. And we have no idea as to what offensive capabilities they may have."

….

"May 20th," announced Kitten, to the rest. She was quite deliberately showing off the ring on her finger.

Blackfire and Athena both hugged her. "This is great news, Kitten," said Athena. "I had already thought of you two as a couple, but this seals the relationship, does it not? Good."

Raven and Hank stood by, both with odd expressions on their faces. "So, Kitten," began Raven, "What sort of ceremony will it be?"

"What about the Reverend Reed? I confess, Rae, I haven't really thought that far ahead, what with everything going on." The group was assembled around the conference table; Omega sat right by Kitten. _Typical man,_ thought Raven, with a smile. _Leave the "details" to others._

"I don't see any reason why not. I'll check with Hank; I'm reasonably sure there won't be a problem." _But we must remember we're basically at war, right now._ She forbore mentioning that, however; the young couple didn't need to be bothered with that sort of thing at this, what should be one of the happiest moments in their lives together. Raven wished Starfire were here; not only would the Tameranean be ecstatic at the prospect of Kitten's and Omega's wedding, Raven felt she'd be far better at planning this sort of thing than she was.

But, as Hank reminded her, his mother, Martha Jones, was also pretty good in the marriage-planning department. And she'd be delighted to help.

Down in the infirmary, Terra watched the readouts on Garfield shift and change. Every downward turn literally made her sick to her stomach. She knew the Titans were getting ready for war with the Justice League and just about everybody else on Earth, and she knew that Omega and Kitten had set a date for their marriage. She cried bitter tears, not only at her husband's situation, but also her own, that she could do so little, partake so little of the joy the two would soon be sharing.

"Miss Terra?" Angelique had quietly come into the room while Terra had been holding her hands up to her face. "Miss Terra? Are…are you….?" But, although Angelique's intellect had been boosted far beyond any human norm, she still didn't quite know how to say what she wanted to say. "I, I mean, I know you're not _alright_, it's just….oh, I don't know what I'm asking! But…is there anything I can do?"

Terra hugged the figure in front of her, that looked so much like a nine year old girl. Not long ago, this same being had very nearly killed them all. But all that was yesterday, and now neither one of them could imagine life without the other. "I…I know what you're asking, Maria, and, and, there's really nothing to be done. It just….I just have to wait. Wait and see."

"Then I'll wait with you."

Silently, invisibly, the Entity hovered over the two, even as his senses ranged far, probing into Garfield's shooting, Mirissa's assassination attempt, the Crimson's agenda, Alice's arrival, the political tensions….everything. Nothing was concealed from him. Nothing could be. He even knew of the Orb's own secret fear: that it might not succeed in saving its friend. Changeling's condition was grave indeed.

He knew where Robin and Starfire had gone. That had been a very unwise decision on their part, but he could see how they arrived at that conclusion. And he could see what would happen as a result. And it all could be avoided so easily.

He knew what Beulah Bleak had summoned from the inky depths of space. So typical of humans, whether they called themselves "human" or not: sacrifice everybody else for your own people. Not, he guessed, that he could really argue with that.

If only Raven would simply ask him. That's all it would take. He'd take care of everything. _Everything!_ He'd make everything better. He'd cure Changeling in a heartbeat, defuse the world tensions that were building up to a climax, protect them from the League, the Crimson, everything.

And he knew about the warnings, the special deliveries, the golden roses, to Blackfire and Athena. He knew exactly who they were from, and what they meant.

_You cannot trust him._

_She is in danger._

_You cannot trust him._

_She is in danger._

_You cannot trust him._

_She is in danger._

If only she'd _trust_ him!

_To be continued…._


	36. Chapter 36: Searches

Tales of the Titans: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results:

Chapter 36: Searches

…..

_Every beginning has an ending. And every ending is a beginning._

…

_Characters of Alice and the Crimson used with permission from Walkerjordan963. Thank you, Jordan!_

…

Chapter 36: Searches

Raven was in her room, trying to read the Entity's book, when Cyborg buzzed her. _"Rae? I thought I'd take Alice and go check out this story of hers. It could have some bearing on the stuff we're going through."_

"Very well, but don't be too long. Remember, we are on high alert, and we don't know how the regular authorities are going to respond. Are you sure this is a wise idea?"

"_Yeah, Rae, it really needs to be done now, before anything else hits the fan. We've got a bit of a breather here; if Alice is gonna be with us, in any capacity, we need to know more about her, wouldn't you think?"_

Raven considered. Part of her wanted to veto the idea. Cyborg was needed here, should things take a turn for the worse (_which I'm sure they will_). She was uneasy about him being away from the others; it made them more vulnerable, as a whole.

But on the other hand, he was right. They needed to know more about Alice and her strange condition. Raven was formulating plans for the girl to become part of them—Azar knew they could use all the help they could get at this point—and the more they knew about her, and her limitations, the better they could integrate her into the team. "Alright. But remain in constant communication with us, and at the first sign of hostilities, get back here. We can establish the shield over the city, but that won't protect our members from forces who're already here. I _don't_ want another incident like what happened to Garfield."

"_Roger that. I'll leave my line open; you'll be able to see and hear everything we do._

"_We'll leave in just a few minutes."_

On the road, Cyborg quizzed Alice about her ordeal. "And you say they never even spoke to you? That's weird, even by weird standards."

"Yeah. The only human voice I heard, the whole time, was…was…that guy they…took apart." _I can still hear his screams._

He noticed her horror…and her fear. "We're doing something about it now, Alice. I don't know how successful we'll be, but you can take some comfort in that knowledge. And maybe you'll get the chance for some payback."

They were silent as they arrived at the place where Alice had directed him. It appeared to be a deserted house, just like any other Cyborg had seen, not really all that run-down. No doubt it housed a homeless person or two…

The front door was unlocked, and they went through into the living room. "It was down there." Alice was pointing towards a staircase. "There's an elevator on the second floor, goes to the basement."

The elevator doors were very well camouflaged, appearing to be the intake grid of the central heat / air conditioning. "I…I don't understand. I know I tore through this, on my way out…."

Cyborg had already morphed his left arm into a sonic cannon. "Seems somebody repaired it." He went up to the grid, and began feeling around for some sort of controls…of course they'd be hidden….

He found a catch, which caused the elevator doors to slide back, revealing a plain elevator. _Hm. I wonder if it's wise to get in this thing? Could be booby trapped._ "Alice? Is there any other way down?"

The blond girl shook her head. "Not that I know of. I, I wasn't paying all that much attention to, to the layout… I just wanted _out._"

"Understood. Well, let's see…." He stepped into the elevator. The controls seemed perfectly ordinary, except they included an unmarked button… "I bet that's it. You ready?"

She shivered. This was where her worst nightmare had begun. But this time, she wasn't alone…Cyborg's very presence was comforting. "As ready as I'll ever be. Let's do this." And she got in the elevator car with him.

The elevator seemed to function without a hitch, taking them down a counted two levels below the ground floor. And when it opened….

Cyborg walked around the complex, in shock. He recognized the vivisection tools and tables, and other instruments of torture, as well as certain mystical symbols. "Rae?" His voice was hushed, as though he were in a cathedral. "You getting all this?" He'd set his bionic eye to stream everything he saw immediately back to Titans' Tower. Just in case.

"_Yes, Victor, I am. And I am as thoroughly dismayed as you are, if not more so. Evidently, we've stumbled across magic darker than anything I've ever experienced, not even excepting my father."_

"Alice?" Cyborg turned to the blond girl, who was hugging herself, not out of cold, but out of fear. This was where it all began. "Alice!" She started, coming out of her private nightmare. "Y-yes?"

"Is this where they…did what they did to you?"

"N…no, not here. It, it was on another level. One deeper down, I think. I, I remember feeling surrounded by rock."

"Downward it is." He looked around. There were no elevators or staircases in sight. _Must be hidden,_ he thought. That made sense.

He activated his Q-wave radar, peering through the walls and floors. Yes, right below was a large chamber…. "Hang on, Alice. Things just might get dicey." Just because the place looked abandoned didn't mean it was.

He morphed his left arm into a tightly collimated spacial displacement "cutter" beam, a Hunter-designed weapon, and directed it at the floor in front of him. The invisible beam, made visible only by the laser sight it was combined with, sliced through the floor.

The rock beneath their feet proved to be thicker than he'd anticipated, but he kept on cutting. "Alice, be on the lookout for anything like an alarm or security system, 'kay? I mean, so far we haven't seen anything, but I can't believe anybody would just go off and leave all this completely unguarded." His beam finished cutting through the floor, and a large section of thick flooring, which seemed to be mostly rock, fell downward with a crash, revealing the chamber below. "Okay, down we go."

The two jumped lightly down into the chamber, Cyborg's shoulder LEDs lighting up the way. If anything, what was down here was more disturbing than the previous level due to its simplicity.

There was a large area clearly marked out as a magic circle, with a pit in the exact center. "That's…that's where it happened," whispered Alice "O-only, there was some huge crystal in that pit, and I was tied over it." She hugged herself, again not from the cold, but from the memory. "It…it hurt so much…"

He looked at her. Suddenly, she didn't seem like the killer he'd been tracking, or the person who'd tried to slice him open in the alleyway, but just a little girl. A little girl who'd had to undergo something no little girl should ever have to. _How old is she, anyway? Fifteen? Sixteen? She can't be eighteen!_

He put his arm, the one he hadn't morphed into a weapon, around her. "Easy. All that's over with. Yeah, I know…what they did still hurts, but we'll figure out a way. I've never yet heard of a magic spell Raven couldn't unravel." _And if she can't, we happen to know a guy who definitely can._ Whatever these human monsters had done to this girl, he'd like to see any magic stand up to the transcosmic power of the being they called the Entity.

She didn't return his hug, but just stood there, eyes wide, mind a million miles away, focused on a horror beyond description. A horror in which she'd been _changed_, fundamentally, into something else.

Into a monster.

Such was their preoccupation, that neither of them noticed the tentacles beginning to flow out of the air vent, set in the ceiling behind them.

….

"_Friend Raven, are you sure you do not need our assistance? We would be more than glad to help."_ Raven was on the communicator with Talks-to-God, on board the Hunter starship _Deson,_ high overhead in orbit. It was stationed exactly over Titans' Tower, in the Jump City bay. Her sister ship, the _Exor_, had taken up position over the Titans' building at Steel City. Both such maneuvers were really unnecessary; the shields provided by the Kindred were proof against anything humanity had to offer and then some.

But tactically, the positioning of the two starships did send a most definite signal to those who would make the Titans their enemies. Raven had been monitoring the Watchtower, to see if the binary fusion cannon was being aimed at either their headquarters or the Hunter ships, but so far, there had been no such alignment.

She sighed. She hated that it had come to this, but perhaps, with Batman's information, some of the tensions could be reduced. Now the United States government knew it had not been them who'd targeted the Tower with nukes, and that would hopefully serve to make them aware that other players in the field might be acting to force a confrontation. Hopefully, the upshot of that would be to make them more careful in the future, and perhaps more willing to seek a non-violent resolution.

She had to admit, however, that, in one way, it was disquieting. Who was this mysterious new adversary, this demon of the Crimson flame? Evidently, the ice sorceress, Mirissa, whom they'd encountered previously, worked for it, or with it…and that was about the extent of the information they had on the matter. Troubling. "Yes, Talks-to-God, we're sure. Things seem to be stable, at least for now. Hopefully, Omega will finish programming the hypercrystal soon and we can begin the restoration process. Once that commences, perhaps everyone will see we aren't the world conquerors they seem to think we could so easily turn into."

"_We truly hope so. Conflicts between people who once shared common goals have always seemed sad, to me. But I am curious: this restoration process…how far will it extend?"_

"Eh?" Raven's mind had wandered a bit. "What do you mean?"

"_Will it affect our own homeworlds, and those within our sphere of influence?"_

Raven thought a moment. "You know, I'm ashamed to say I hadn't even thought that far ahead. But from what Omega tells me, I see no reason why it shouldn't. After all, your worlds are in danger, too."

"_That is true. And our recent experience with the quantivores was most disturbing. We thank you for sharing with us the specifications of the weapon your 'Gizmo' came up with; I understand these are under full production, back at the home worlds, in case a similar event should happen to us."_

"Yes. We've made a few more, ourselves. Though what we could do should they swarm us again…and I have my doubts that Typhon would intervene for us the way he did last time." She scowled, then sat back in her chair, leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and sighed. "I'm almost tempted to take the Entity up on his offer. Just…let him fix everything. He says he can, but…."

"_Raven? May I ask you a personal question?"_

"Of course. I thought we'd progressed to the point where you wouldn't have to ask if you could or not."

"_From what you have told me, I am wondering: why __have__ you not already taken the Entity up on his offer? And, if I may ask, precisely what IS his offer, anyway? What would it entail?"_

Raven thought. "I suppose that's the stumbling block I'm grappling with. Why haven't I taken him up on his offer yet? Well…." How to explain this? "As it's been explained to me, the Entity assimilates pretty much everything, but especially living beings. Bodies and souls. You…aren't really _you_ anymore. Oh, you both are and are not. Part of you remains, but…I guess it's a change, a big change, Talks, and my people habitually fear change. Especially when the change is permanent, as it would be in this case."

"_But have you not said you plan to accept the Entity's offer someday?"_

She nodded. "Yes. But…I guess I was thinking of 'someday' as being a bit further off than 'tomorrow.'" She bit her lip. "But…you know what? If, if it would solve all our problems, heal Garfield, and protect the rest of us…then, yeah, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Right now."

"_Is his condition truly that grave?"_

"I'm afraid so. Garfield is extraordinarily resilient, a side effect of his powers, but what he was hit with was pretty nasty."

Talks-to-God made a small sound that Raven had come to associate with the clearing of a human's throat: a sound meant to indicate a need for attention to a special message about to be delivered. _"There…is a technique we have encountered from one of our partner worlds in our alliance."_

Raven's ears perked up. Sometimes, science, alien science especially, was able to do things even magic couldn't do. Though she doubted there would be any scientific fix the Kindred hadn't already thought of. "What is it?"

"_It is not a cure. But what it is, is a means of copying his mind—his full mentality, as well as his base physical form—and coding that into a crystal sphere. As I said, it would not cure him, but it would permit him to be…reincarnated, I suppose you'd say, into a new, cloned body. Restored. However, the process has never been tested on humans—or on us, for that matter—and, depending upon the cloning techniques, may not necessarily restore him to the precise shape he was in prior to this attack. But it is an option."_

That sounded a lot like what the Orb was trying to even now, thought Raven. Still…as Talks-to-God said, perhaps it would be an option. Something like making a data backup on one's computer system. "I'll ask Terra. Right now, of course, Gar's in no condition to agree or disagree. But…I'll ask.

"'Thank you' seems so inadequate, my friend, but…they are the only words I have. Thank you, Talks-to-God. I honestly don't think we could have made it this far without the support of you and the others."

"_You are most welcome, Raven. You are of us, now. Biology and point of origin do not matter, if, indeed they ever did to begin with. We are family. We will be with you, come what may."_

…_.._

In the infirmary: Angelique continued to sit with Terra while the latter waited, eternally waited, for the love of her life to wake up, to open his eyes, anything. She would have sold her soul just to see him smile that goofy smile of his once again.

"Miss Terra?" Angelique spoke up for the first time in hours. "How…how are you feeling?"

Terra couldn't really think about that at that point. "I'm fine," she said, automatically.

Angelique gathered herself, then spoke. "Well…don't keep from taking care of yourself, too, you know. When was the last time you ate anything?"

"I don't know."

"Then that's too long." She stood up. "I'll go get you something. What would you like?"

"I…I don't…Angelique, I can't really think of food at a time like this." She sniffled, wiping her nose.

"But you've gotta eat." And here Angelique looked at her with a strangely _knowing_ look. "You know why, too. It's more important now than ever."

Terra stiffened, and her eyes stopped leaking tears, for the moment. "Uh, A-Angelique?"

"I know you haven't told anybody. But I can tell. And I'm sure Miss Athena and Mr. Omega already know." She cocked her head, first at the blond girl, then gestured with her chin at the figure on the table in the next room. "And he _will_ come out of this, Miss Terra. I'm _sure_ of it.

"Mr. Garfield's gonna make a _great_ dad!"

_To be continued._


	37. Chapter 37: Pawns and Queens

Tales of the Titans: Godwar, Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

…

_I don't own the Teen Titans_

…

_Alice and the Crimson used by permission from Walkerjordan963. Thank you, Jordan!_

…

Chapter 37: Pawns and Queens

The Sierra Nevada mountain range, California: Deep within a secret cave, Mirissa stood before the altar from which sprang the cold red flame of the Crimson. The ancient-appearing but androgynous face turned to her. _Such lovely pain. This is indeed a feast for one such as I. Have you placed the crystals as I commanded?_

"Yes, my Lord. Everything is in place." She smiled a smile with absolutely no warmth in it whatsoever. "They will never know what hit them."

…

Cyborg's first inkling that anything was wrong came when Alice gasped and dodged. He jerked his attention around, and saw the tentacles coming out of the air vent. _Stupid! You should've been watching!_ But even as he did, he noticed something: these tentacles, like Alice herself, were only visible to his organic eye. To his cybernetic systems, it was like they didn't exist. "Alice! Get behind me!" _At least we know now why there're no hobos here._ He'd already morphed arms into his sonic cannons, and didn't want Alice to be caught in the backlash from the sonic blast.

But Alice wasn't having any. With the speed and nimbleness of a cat, she leapt into the very thicket of the tentacles, her silver claws slashing right and left, cleaving through the rubbery looking tentacles, severing them. The severed tentacles fell to the floor, twitching horribly.

Cyborg charged forward. He couldn't use his sonic cannon with the girl right in front of him, but he did have his strength. Together the two of them slashed and tore at the tentacles…but for every one they severed, three more sprouted from within the air vent. Cyborg really didn't like to think about what those tentacles might be attached to "Alice! We've got to get out of here! This place is a death trap!"

Snarling, the clawed girl continued to slash away, and Cyborg realized she was acting out her own pain: she'd been powerless before, but she wasn't powerless now. "Alice!" But she gave no sign of hearing him.

Finally he backed off, and, morphing his arm into a sonic cannon, took aim at the center of the mass of the tentacles. _BOOOOOOOOOM! _went his cannon. Bits and pieces of tentacle fell to the floor, as did a stunned Alice. He gathered her up in one arm, keeping his other ready, and leaped up the hole they'd come down through. Once there, he swiftly cut another hole above, and jumped up to the first floor. "C'mon! This neighborhood sucks, anyway!" He smashed his way out of the front door, the girl still groggy in his arms, and made for the T-car.

Once there, he swiftly stuffed her into the passenger side, got in, and pulled away. "Raven? You get that?"

"_I saw where you were apparently fighting something I couldn't see. Either that, or it was a superb job of acting, which I doubt. Is Alice okay?"_

He glanced over. Alice moaned slightly, just then beginning to come to. Cyborg was impressed with her resilience; she'd taken nearly a full backwash from his sonic cannon and was evidently uninjured. "You….didn't haveta….shout."

"Yeah I did. You were in 'not listening' mode. Any idea what that thing was?"

She rubbed her head. "No. Only…"

"Only what?"

"Only I could swear I'd seen it somewhere before."

…

0200 hours, at a rooftop nearly a quarter of a mile away from Titans' Tower: Deadshot settled himself into a more comfortable position on the rooftop across the bay from Titans' Tower. He ran a check on his rifle: a heavily customized Remington model 700 bolt-action chambered for the 7.62 NATO round, known to American shooters as the .308 Winchester. The suggestion had been made to chamber the rifle for a cartridge with more power, perhaps a wildcat cartridge, or some other customized caliber. But the upper echelons had nixed that; if the .308 proved insufficient for the task, then adding to the speed or weight of the payload would be a waste of time and money.

If this didn't work, more power or a flatter trajectory wouldn't help.

So it was a perfectly standard chambering. What was unusual about it was the payload the cartridge was to propel.

_Then_: _"_'Scuze me for living, but are you asking me to take a rifle up against a being that's supposed to be invulnerable? Am I understanding you correctly?" _I'm beginning to understand why they call this the "Suicide Squad."_

Amanda Waller, the "Wall," as she was known, had simply nodded abruptly. "In a word, yes. But although this is, basically, a standard sniper weapon, these are no ordinary bullets. Our scientists, working from Kryptonian tech, as well as what we've gathered of Osiran tech, have managed to put together a projectile composed of what we've come to call 'negative matter.' Not antimatter, but a kind of matter that simply causes ordinary matter to cease existing. Anything made of matter, even up to and including neutronium, will simply evaporate upon contact with it. The two will simply and nonviolently cancel each other out.

"We haven't been able to shoehorn very much into the single bullets themselves, but they're held in a confinement field. Upon contact with the target, the outer casing will break apart, leaving only the inner core of negative matter to continue on its course. It doesn't have to be much; just a small amount passing through the target should be enough to leave an open wound canal. Whether or not this will prove fatal, of course we don't know.

"Your target, by the way, is the Osiran known as 'Athena.' She's the one with the greatest degree of invulnerability. The others can be…neutralized by more conventional means. Though if you can get Omega, that would be even better. Even though I'm given to understand he seldom makes an appearance these days. But, whatever the case, you will only get one shot, of course. After that," and here she had handed him a small device resembling a miniature smartwatch, "You hit this. This will teleport you back to HQ, behind our own defenses. Leave everything else; the rifle's already been 'sanitized,'" referring to the process by which a piece of ordnance can be rendered untraceable: serial numbers ground off, rifling altered slightly, the black, synthetic stock fingerprint-proof. "so even if they have the rifle in their hands, they will be unable to garner any information from it.

"I only get one shot? Damn. Was hoping for more action."

"You delay in hitting that button, and you'll get more action than you're ready for. We're poking a hornet's nest here, and these hornets have really big stingers." She paused momentarily. "The others will be in position then, to take maximum advantage of the confusion. Black Spider will be secreting himself within a nearby abandoned building, ready to do the same thing to whichever Osiran survives. He, too, will have a teleporter." She turned to the rest of the crew. "Harkness," she addressed Boomerang, "remember, those special 'rangs of yours are specifically designed to disrupt the Tameranean physiology. Once again, you get one shot. Make it count. Enchantress, you target Raven…." And so on.

_Now:_ Deadshot steadied himself against the tripod upon which his rifle rested. He peered through the highly modified telescopic sight, seeking a view of one of the Osirans. The advanced computer / sensor within the scope itself was programmed to seek out Osirans, specifically. He and Spider were detailed with taking out the heavies; everybody else had their own assigned targets, and even he didn't know precisely where they were, in case he were to be caught and interrogated.

The streets of Jump City were virtually clear of traffic at this time, which was just as it was supposed to be. This that was going down stood a very good chance of turning extremely messy, and the fewer civilians involved, the better he liked it. There was no point in involving civilians.

Patiently, he waited. His experience and training had taught him the value of remaining still, in once spot: you were just plain less likely to be discovered if you didn't move around. To that end, both he and Spider had been catheterized, so that they wouldn't have to answer "the call of nature," and so run the risk of giving away their position. While it was uncomfortable, he saw the advantages.

0230: no sign of any movement from the Tower. Several of the apartments were lit from within, but at no time had an Osiran passed by any window. He didn't care about anyone else; he and Spider had been given specific targets. The others had been assigned to certain members of the Titans, but he and Black Spider were to concentrate on nothing less than one of the Osirans.

0350: He was beginning to chafe from inaction. Something should have happened by now….

All at once, he felt something hit him right in the small of the back, something that whipped tentacles around him, immobilizing him. He tried to reach his wrist teleporter, but he was held too firmly for that.

"Tangle arrows are wonderful, wouldn't you agree, assassin?" said Green Arrow's voice from behind and to his right. "They're a bitch to load, but they're well worth it. Just to see the look on your face."

Deadshot looked up. Descending from the stars above were Superman, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, Captain Marvel, Captain Atom, Zatanna and Zatara, and the Flash. With a sinking sensation, he also recognized the New God Orion, aboard his astroharness. "How….how did you…." He could barely talk, due to the constricting cables. But he knew Waller was listening in on a live audio feed, right from the cam he had on his uniform.

"Let's just say, a little bat told us," replied Superman.

"Yes," said Batman's voice, from behind him. "You might say that. And, Waller—I know you're listening in-, just so you know: your other 'agents' have been similarly neutralized, and will be boxed up, ready to be delivered back to you. Let's not have this conversation again.

"I'd hate for it to become personal."

Several hundred miles away, Amanda Waller stiffened, hanging raptly on every word. So. The Justice League had neutralized her pawns. Her first response was anger; how _dare _they interfere with a government-sanctioned operation? But then she thought: in so doing, they'd taken a step away from being the disinterested third party they'd claimed to be. Perhaps something could be gleaned from that, politically. "Alright, rich boy," she muttered, under her breath, "You've just upped the ante."

…..

"So now what?" Wonder Woman swept her gaze over the various members of Task Force X, each of them confined in whichever way best suited their abilities. "Won't she just try this again?" She looked at Batman, as did the others.

"Of course she will," he responded, without the trace of a smile, "and with different pawns. But remember: pawns are there to be sacrificed. It's the bishops, rooks, and knights you have to watch out for.

"And, of course, the most dangerous one of them all: the Queen."

_To be continued…_


	38. Chapter 38: Bodies

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 38: Bodies

…..

_Characters of Alice and the Crimson used with permission by walkerjordan963. Thank you, Jordan!_

…_.._

Chapter 38: Bodies

In a small cave in the Sierra Nevada mountain range, the face in the crimson flame nodded approvingly at the recent turn of events. _It is truly magnificent, how these mortals continue to spiral downward into chaos. Chaos can be very useful to one such as I._

Mirissa, standing before the altar, cleared her throat. "I wonder, Master, if I might not be permitted to pursue my righteous revenge upon the slut, Terra?"

The face seemed to consider. Then, _And precisely what would you do, my acolyte, were you given my permission?_

"I have cast the runes and noted that the slut's husband is facing death. There is no guarantee he will survive, even with all the forces they can muster. My concern is that, if I wait until he is dead, I will have lost a chance to return the 'favor' she did to me, all those years ago, when she turned Brion's head with her disgusting use of her body.

"I would like to cause her additional pain, perhaps by directing my efforts at her protector, the other spawn of Tri—that is to say, your great enemy. Were I to steal his comatose body, I could contrive to erase his memories, then present him, whole and cured of the curse I placed upon the bullet, back to her. He would, of course, have no memory of her, and this would be…" She paused a moment, a thoroughly unpleasant smile upon her face, "…a most fitting gesture. It would have the added benefit of producing even more pain, pain such as you could feast upon."

The oddly androgynous face considered, its eyes turned upward momentarily. _One must be careful, Mirissa. I have noted activity of three entities who could prove to be problematical to you, in these plans._

_One is this being called the "Orb," evidently an alien being of not-insignificant might. It is in its care that your target's body now resides, as it struggles to heal him. And it may do so; as I said, it is a being of considerable power._ After all her years of association with the face, Mirissa could sense the rest of the thought: _perhaps exceeding my own._ She knew the Crimson would never admit this, however.

_But there are two others I have vaguely sensed and know very little of. One is currently in close rapport with the spawn of my enemy. It seems to be focusing its attention upon her. I cannot sense it directly, and this leads me to worry. I do not think it wise to challenge this unknown quantity. Especially when we are so close to implementing my plan._

_The other is in orbit about this planet. I sense a kind of neutrality in it, but that is evidently flexible; it recently moved to defend a human child from an attack by my former tool, Rorek. The extent to which it will move to oppose me is another unknown._

_It is wise to acquire more knowledge of these beings before dealing with them._

Mirissa hung her head in disappointment. Yet, she couldn't deny that what the Master had said bore weight. She had underestimated her foes the last time, and the results…were such that she did not care to repeat them.

But there must be _something_ she could do…

_Mirissa. I have decided to accelerate my plans. I will need you to infiltrate one of the humans' air force bases, and acquire the command codes for their nuclear armament._

Mirissa looked up in surprise. This was unexpected. "Would you have me activate them, Lord? The energy shields around the Titans' bases will prevent the missiles from doing any damage, save to the surrounding countryside."

_That is not what I need, not yet. I sense another, one whose anger I can use. And anger, properly utilized and appropriately channeled, can be a mightier weapon than any nuclear missile._

Amanda Waller was sitting through yet another interminable meeting with the upper echelon of the committee responsible for overseeing the government project known as "Task Force X," sometimes referred to as the "Suicide Squad." "So you're telling me that we've no leverage at all here? The Justice League has clearly stepped over a line here. Even if we have to disavow the actions of our operatives, we should still be able to use that, in some way."

General Miller scoffed. "Oh, of course. All we have to do is go before the Senate and say, 'Excuse us, but we sent some assassins to take out the Teen Titans and they got their asses kicked by the Justice League, so, let's take legal action against the League and make sure they don't interrupt any more assassinations. It's sooo much easier that way.' Yeah, I'm _sure_ they'd understand."

His sarcasm bounced off her like silly putty. "But the matter has become polarized." Behind her anger, Waller was afraid, deeply afraid of a world in which justice belonged to the strong. That wasn't the way civilization was supposed to be.

But it looked like it was coming about. She remembered a heated conversation she'd had, prior to the squad being deployed: "It appears we can no longer rely on the Justice League to uphold the laws of our country. Captain Adams!" Captain Atom stepped closer to the screen. "I am hereby recalling you to active service, as per your sworn oath-*"

"The government to which I swore that oath no longer exists, ma'am," he'd said, smoothly, crossing him arms. "I hereby consider and declare myself free of any obligation to the current administration."

She'd narrowed her eyes at him. "You can't do that."

"I just did."

She sighed. The whole conversation, trying to get the League to _listen_, to realize what the kind of power the Titans had couldn't be trusted to any small group of individuals, completely wasted. Especially very _young_ individuals. And a group led by a demon offspring! Why didn't the fools see that it couldn't _get _much worse than that?

Of course, she saw it for what it was: they were protecting their own. That fueled her fears of the mighty ruling the weak. The Justice League sided with the Titans primarily because of their personal relationship with many of its members. It was, in a way, a kind of nepotism, a throwback to dark days in human civilization when a king or monarch dispatched members of his family, some of dubious reputation, to rule over certain select districts. When those rulers acted in an unjust manner, there was simply no one to appeal to. The monarch would not listen to complaints against members of his own family, and even _talking_ about such complaints, in what might otherwise have been a private setting, could have led to…undesirable consequences. She could easily see a time coming when that could happen here. They had already learned of that very thing happening in an alternate dimension. Why _couldn't _it happen here? "We need," she said for the hundredth time, steepling her fingers in front of her face, "leverage. Leverage of some sort. What of this bill before Congress now? The Powers Registration Act?"

"It's run into a snag, Ms. Waller," said Conlin, their personal attaché to Congress. "The Ways and Means Committee is requiring details on just what would be considered 'Powered.' After all, individuals such as Batman don't actually have any easily quantifiable super powers. Neither does Green Arrow…but they're obviously threats to our agenda. Ways and Means wants to know just how we'd determine who's Powered and who's not." He shrugged. "We can't very well come out and say anybody who opposes us _must_ be considered 'Powered.' That's a little too North Korea: all who oppose the government must, by definition, be traitors, or insane, or both."

"Damn. So. No help there." She turned to another one, Conners by name. "You. Conners. What about our 'special' project?"

He looked nervous. Waller always had that effect on him. "Er, slowly, sir, I mean, ma'am. There's considerable damage…"

"I was told this wouldn't be a problem."

"It's, it's not. It's just that, for the, the creature to repair itself, it needs certain elements not easily available. Some, perhaps not even available on this planet."

"Impossible. The creature survived before, survived long enough to defeat, or nearly defeat, Superman. It was still active enough that cell samples taken from it indicated every potential of restoring it. Why has this not already happened?"

"I-it's like I told you, ma'am. The, the restoration process _is_ continuing, but the rate is not as fast as we'd originally predicted."

"In short, you screwed up."

"N-no, ma'am! The creature is regenerating, just as we calculated. It's just, the addition of certain elements would promote a more, more rapid regeneration."

"Such as?"

"Iridium for a start. Selenium." He ticked them off on his fingers. "And then there's a slot in its genome for an element we've yet to identify."

Waller looked him over. He was much too nervous to be lying. Perhaps they had overestimated the monster's regeneration speed and now sought to cover their tracks…or perhaps not. "Well, the selenium and the iridium's not a problem. There's no substitute for the other element?"

"None we can determine. I…" He stopped, looking down on his hands, which were folded in front of him on the table where they sat. "I have been wondering if it might be possible to, to create it, or at least a reasonable substitute."

"Explain." She was acutely conscious of the need for the Doomsday monster to be fully recovered _now_, before matters came to a head. It would be a point in their favor. As far as they'd been able to tell, the creature did not seem to be vulnerable to kryptonite, as Superman was. The theory advanced was that, since it was created on a Krypton in the distant past, it had not been linked with, and therefore unaffected by the explosion that had destroyed that planet and produced the element known as "kryptonite."

Control…that was another matter. "What would you need to produce this element?"

"Access to a high-end particle accelerator. Really high-end. Mind you, I can't guarantee we'd succeed…"

"Hm. Perhaps, just perhaps, we could call in a favor or two from some of the scientists working at CERN, at the LHC. How much time would you need?"

He sat back and spread his hands. "I don't have any way of answering that, ma'am. I don't even know, for a certainty, that we could synthesize the element. It's not essential. But it would help."

"I'll see what I can do." She was also acutely conscious of the need for powerful allies, powerful _tools_. Right now, they were in short supply. While she had no lack of operatives at her disposal, she needed more; she needed beings or something powerful enough to stand up to the Justice League. Conners' project was supposed to provide precisely that. "Moving on…"

That night, Frank Conners had a most unusual dream. While he didn't normally remember his dreams, he remembered being visited by a most unusual, and most unusually attractive, woman who told him that she could supply him with the element he needed. And all she needed from him was….

Directed by his dream, he walked down to the holding area where the monster was. Using his security code, he opened up the three failsafe doorways, and dismissed the guard. Eyes glazed, he walked up to the hulking monstrosity as it hung, suspended in such a way as it could get no leverage to use its incredible power.

The element did indeed accelerate the regeneration of the creature. It accelerated it by quite a bit.

Not thirty minutes later, Mirissa was gazing in admiration of the gray brute in front of her. What remained of Conners stained the walls, the floors, and most of the consoles, but that was of no concern. Mirissa gazed up into the red eyes of the Thing in front of her, recognizing it for what it truly was. "Welcome, Master," she said, bowing low.

The creature rubbed its wrists. _Ah, Mirissa, my disciple. How good it feels to have a proper body._

_To be continued…._


	39. Chapter 39: Diplomacy by Other Means

Tales of the Titans: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 39: Diplomacy by Other Means

….

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Soon, no one will._

…_._

Chapter 39: Diplomacy by Other Means

"Any change?" Raven asked, just then coming into Garfield's hospital room where Terra sat with Angelique. Terra had managed to stop crying some time ago. Angelique's presence had been helpful; she knew she wasn't alone in her misery, as her husband, lover, and other half fought for his life, but sometimes, irrationally, it seemed as though she was.

"No," she said, eyes on the floor. "But at least, at least there's been no…no decline."

Raven moved over and put a hand on Terra's shoulder. "Terra…you know he _will_ recover. Garfield's too stubborn to give up. And," and here her face quirked in a lopsided smile, "somehow I think he knows he's got an added incentive to come back to us." Referring to Terra's pregnancy.

Terra blushed. "I, I was gonna was tell him, once I was sure. But now…" A fresh tear made its way down her cheek, a cheek that, in Raven's estimation, had seen far too many tears already. "Does…does everyone know?"

Raven nodded. "Pretty much. Those that don't have pretty much been able to infer it from the actions of those who do know. And, really, Terra, it was only a matter of time. We all knew that." She stood by the distraught blond, her hand on her shoulder. "He _will_ come back to us, Terra. He will come back to _you._"

"T-thank you, Raven. You, you don't know how much that means to me, right now." She fumbled with a tissue. Angelique had seen to it that Terra had everything she needed, such as tissues and other items, right there, but had been encouraging her (without a whole of success) to leave the room to eat, at least. It surely couldn't be healthy for the girl to stay in this one room all this time, never seeing another soul, constantly reminded that her love was fighting for his life.

A fight he could yet lose.

Garfield Logan had been ambushed and shot with a cursed bullet at their home in the Colorado Rockies. Even the combined powers of the Orb and the Kindred had been unable to fully lift the curse; the best they'd been able to do was to ameliorate its effects. Right now, a lot depended on just how much of a fight Garfield himself put up.

Raven stood up, patting Terra on the shoulder. "Do take care of yourself, though, Terra. Don't neglect what he's fighting for." She nodded to Angelique, a wordless nod that communicated the thought: _Take care of her, and see to it that she takes care of herself. And the baby._

Angelique nodded, accepting that responsibility. Once, long ago, duped by Slade, she'd tried to kill Beast Boy. Now she couldn't imagine what sort of person she'd been, to even consider doing so.

Raven left the room quietly, leaving the two of them to their own thoughts. _There is not enough pain in all Creation for the creature who did this,_ she thought.

…

_Yes, Mirissa, I think I will accelerate my plans. _The Crimson, now inhabiting Doomsday's body, had returned to the mountain cave where its altar had previously been. Once there, it had hewn itself a massive wedge-shaped throne upon which it now lounged. _But first, I will grow strong upon the pain and fear of these mortals. You obtained the codes I sent you for?_

"Yes, Master," said the ice sorceress. "These are the codes for the nuclear missiles and their launching protocols. We can use them at any time."

_They will perhaps be useful, but their value is limited. Use of them automatically decreases the number of those I may feed upon. So they will have to be used carefully, and certainly not all at once. However, once we do use them, the humans will no doubt change those codes. Hm. _The gray giant rubbed its chin, thoughtfully. _Perhaps a more productive route may be found in the mind of this one I have already touched, this Amanda Waller. Her fear is delicious, and she is completely without that troublesome thing humans call a conscience. All it requires is convincing her that a certain course of action is 'necessary,' by whatever light she elects to see that, and she will not hesitate to leap at it, no matter how many lives would be forfeit. I find such a mindset…pleasing. I couldn't have designed a better one had I tried._ Then the monster's tone of thought changed. _Has there been any more indication of activity from my former tool, Rorek of Nol?_

"No, Master. Not beyond the most recent. It was he who informed the humans, this _Batman_, that something was amiss. Had he not done so, I doubt the mortal husband of the slut would be alive." She spat out the word, "slut," as though ridding her mouth of a bad taste.

_Do not be deceived; the green one is also the son of my great enemy. As such, he is possessed of abilities even he is unaware of._ Again, the Crimson's tone of "voice" changed, becoming somewhat lighter. _I have always found it amusing, how your hatred of this 'Terra' seems to grow with each passing year._

"She had sex with her _own half-brother!_ And all to keep him from me! Who knows how many times since then she has…_serviced_ him! I understand he is still single. It is of no wonderment as to _why_. No doubt she satisfies his 'needs.'" Mirissa's mind boiled with images of Terra and Brion cavorting in bed, during Beast Boy's absence. "Who knows how many times since her 'marriage' to the…spawn of your great enemy has she, has she…" Mirissa found she couldn't go on. She was literally shaking with rage.

The Crimson drank in Mirissa's emotions, her anger and rage, her desire for revenge, and found them delicious beyond measure. What Mirissa was talking about had never happened, of course, but to inform her of that would be counterproductive to the Crimson's plans. _Yes. Yes. And, it might interest you to know I now sense two lives in her body. She is pregnant._ Again, the monster rubbed its chin, a crafty expression on its craggy face. _One wonders whose child this might be._

"Perhaps it will be born deformed," spat the ice sorceress. "Or not at all. That would be fitting. I only regret not being able to reveal her duplicity to her husband, and seeing her pain upon their inevitable parting. I have no doubt he would be as disgusted with her as I am. It would have been so, _so_ fitting." Mirissa struggled to bring herself under control.

_You may yet have your opportunity, my disciple. He has powerful allies. There is one, whom I can barely sense, whose power is great enough to lift the curse. But I sense…I sense that it is waiting for something. Something that may never occur._

"I am of two minds about that," said Mirissa, as she regained control of herself.

…

"_Hank? Would you come to my quarters, please?"_

"'Please'?" Hank stuck his little finger in his ear, worked it a minute. "Did I hear right? You felt the need to say '_please'_?"

"_Don't be a smartass. Just come, okay? I need to talk to you."_

Shortly, Hank Jones found himself standing before the door to Raven's private quarters. The number of people whom she'd invited in, in the past, could be counted on the fingers of one hand, with a couple left over. But he was her boyfriend…

The door _swissshed_ open, and he stepped in to the cool darkness of Raven's room. As usual, he couldn't help but look around at the fixtures: the menacing statues and idols she'd collected over the years. He'd never understood why; trophies, perhaps? But lately, she'd begun to decorate her apartment with an eye towards a more…normal, perhaps even _human_ touch. There were new covers on the bed, blue comforters with white sheets and blue pillowcases, replacing the solid black comforters and pillowcases she'd once preferred. And he noticed a couple of stuffed teddy bears on one shelf, a gift from one of the neophyte Titans whom she'd escorted to safety once, many years ago. He smiled. Well, it was a start. "Yes, Raven?"

She sat over on her couch, and gestured for him to come sit by her. "Hank…I'm in a quandary."

"Let me guess: something to do with the Entity, right?"

"Too right. As you know, we've been talking, and, well…." Raven was referring to the transcosmic Entity they encountered what seemed like so long ago. The being assimilated people, planets, stars, galaxies, even whole universes, making them part of itself. It had offered to assimilate Raven and whichever of the Titans who chose to be. Normally, this would be the very sort of thing the Titans would have fought, but the thing was, Raven had seen enough of the Entity's core Being to know that it was not lying when it said that assimilation was actually an upgrade. Life within the Entity was nothing to be dreaded, no horror from a sci-fi movie thriller, but rather—if what she'd sensed was true—a kind of _completion_, with each individual within the Entity contributing to the whole. And, according to the Entity, it was the only way for mortals on Earth to escape the coming, seemingly inevitable destruction of their universe. Omega had been working feverishly with the Osiran-designed hypercrystal, in the Tower's basement, trying to find a way to "re-weave" the fabric of the universe, but he had had only limited success so far. "Hank, I've been thinking." She paused. He waited, patiently. He knew she was formulating her own thoughts in her head. He just wasn't sure he liked where those thoughts were leading her. "The Entity's communications with me…haven't been as informative as I would have liked. I don't know why that is, but it's like it's…keeping something from me. It keeps saying it wants me to 'trust' it. Exactly what that means, hasn't been made completely clear."

"_Do_ you trust it?" Hank sat back, his elbow propped on the backrest, propping his head in his hand, throwing one leg over another.

"That's the thing. In some ways, yes. It's given us—it's given _me_—no reason _not_ to. But…there's the message that Komi and Athena got. You know about that, don't you?"

"Yeah. 'You cannot trust him. She is in danger.'" The enigmatic messages had been coming to the pair now for two months, always accompanied by a solid gold rose, and a hand-written note. The note was always signed with the symbol for Asmodeus, one of the demon princes of Hell. "Not exactly the sort of thing to inspire trust, in itself."

"Yes, about that." She paused, pulling a knee up and wrapping her hands around it. _What a beautiful leg,_ he thought. Raven, of course, being Raven, had no idea what the sight of her legs did to him. "I checked around, and no demon has sent anything of the sort to anybody. Of course, matters being what they are, my contacts beyond the demon realm are limited, but I don't believe it came from any angel, either. Besides, why would an angel pretend to be a demon? Such is just not their style."

"So what do you think?"

"Athena's convinced the messages are coming from the future. Someone, in the future, is trying to warn us—perhaps to warn _me_—of a certain plan of action I'm contemplating. And I guess you can deduce what that plan of action is."

"You're considering taking the Entity up on its offer."

She nodded. "Yes. It's never actually come right out and said so, but I get the impression that, should I do that, that it…could take care of all our problems in a heartbeat. It could certainly heal Garfield; I'm sure it could take out whoever this mysterious being is that sent those missiles, and, and, well, anything else. All our problems. Every single one in one fell swoop.

"And I _know_ the creature possesses the raw power to do so. Of that, there's no doubt in my mind whatsoever. The thing is, after all, a being that encompasses whole universes. They're like cells in its body. So, yeah, power-wise, I'm sure it could."

"But you're not sure it _would._"

"Exactly. And once I'm assimilated-*"

He took her hand. "Once _we're_ assimilated." She glanced at him. "Where you go, I go, Rae. No debate on that."

"Well, anyway…afterwards…then what? I—we'd be a part of the Entity. But would we be enough of a part to, to make a difference?" She sighed, her fingers tightening in his hand. "So I don't know what to do."

"Do you want my thoughts on the matter?"

"Of course. That's why I wanted you here in the first place. Silly." She smiled a lopsided smile, and he smiled in return. The old Raven would _never_ have uttered the word "silly," for any reason.

"This whole business, that you've described, sounds a whole lot like the 'selling your soul to the devil' routine. If the Entity's requirement for doing all these wonderful things is, basically, the totality of all you are, then I have to wonder if that's really a good idea or not.

"After all, in all the old stories, the devil always has some fine print that everybody seems to overlook, until it's too late."

She nodded. "My thoughts exactly. I've been reading this massive book it sent me," she nodded towards the huge volume currently taking up about half her desk, "but it's slow going. And I don't know that I'm really getting anything like a better handle on the Being, on why it acts the way it does." She sighed. "A lot of it seems like a diary or something, someone taking notes about…certain activities. And a lot of what appears to be scientific notation, which, to be honest, I can't make sense of.

"But if I am reading it correctly…the Entity was once mortal, or something close to being mortal. Then…something happened. What, I'm not exactly sure. Some sort of transcendence, maybe." She got up and went over to the table, where the Entity's book lay. "I don't know if I'm reading this correctly, but-*"

"_Red alert! Red Alert! All Titans in residence!"_ The computer's synthesized voice cut through all chatter and background noise like a chainsaw. _"Warning. Incoming naval warships approaching. Identity: USS Saratoga, USS Nimitz, approaching. Weapons active and targeting the Tower. Communications being received…"_

"Oh, Azar," said Raven. "It's begun."

…

"Mr. President, we'd like to know the meaning of this."

"_I'm sorry, J'onn. My advisors have convinced me that this is the only way. If, indeed, the Titans are sincere about wanting to help, then they'll have no problem honoring our requests for their surrender. And if they're not…"_ On the screen, the President spread his hands. _"If they're not, now's as good a time as any to find out."_

"You do realize this polarizes the situation to the extreme, do you not? You could easily force them to a decision they don't want to make. One that they might not have otherwise made."

"_Yes, J'onn, and I didn't want to do this. But negotiations were getting us nowhere. If this alien warrior—whose allegiance is, I understand, still questionable—manages to activate this hypercrystal, it'll be far too late. He'll be able to do anything at all with just a thought. Don't you think that's a lot of power for any one person to have? What's the old saying? 'Absolute power corrupts absolutely'? And not meaning to sound racist or, or, speciesist, but this Omega isn't even human. We don't know what motivates him, or whether he may still be under the influence of these Osiran Lords. If he is, and he activates that crystal, we're already a conquered people. We're just waiting for the chains."_

"Mr. President, you can't possibly believe that. Omega has put his life on the line to save humans—indeed, to save the Earth itself—more times than most can count. You're treating him like a plague ready to erupt."

"_Threat analysis, J'onn. We can't go by what someone is likely to do, or even what they have done in the past; we have to take into consideration what they __could__ do. And Omega, backed by the power of this crystal, could do…anything. Literally anything at all. Can you really blame us for being concerned?_

"_For that matter, how exactly do __you__ feel about this? What's your—the League's-official stance here? The League is the most powerful force on Earth right now…but if this crystal is activated, you'll be just as helpless as the rest of us. It seems you should be siding with us."_

J'onn's eyes remained fixed on the eyes of the man on the screen. He gave the owner of those eyes just long enough to become nervous before replying. "Mr. President…bear in mind that the Titans have not broken any laws. Instead, they've striven to uphold them, even in the face of overwhelming odds. We've no reason to move against them. And…" And here his alien eyes narrowed, imperceptibly, "they, at least, have not engaged in any covert actions, especially any involving the use of lethal force. Perhaps you may understand that we regard such actions as being unjust, regardless of whatever legalities may or may not be involved. There's a reason we're called the _Justice_ League."

…

"_Attention, Titans' Tower. This is Admiral Roderick Brady of the USS Saratoga. By the power granted me by the United States government, I call upon you to give yourselves up and surrender your artifact, the hypercrystal, to us. Failure to comply will be regarded as an act of terrorism. We respectfully ask that you surrender. You will be given every possible, every conceivable, legal leniency, and any and all assistance you may feel needed will be provided to you. On this, you've my personal word._

"_However, as much as it pains me to do so, I must stress that failure to comply with this directive will result in the use of lethal force._

"_As one citizen of the United States to another, I ask that you do not let it come to that point. _

"_Please."_

"Well," remarked Komi, as she and Raven were standing in the window, "I suppose this is an improvement over sending assassins in the middle of the night."

"I should have seen this coming," said Raven. "When humans are scared, they usually end up overreacting. Athena?"

"Those ship's weapons are charged with negative matter projectiles, the same as those of the assassins the other night. Our invulnerability will most probably not protect us from them. And I have my doubts that even the force-fields would prove entirely sufficient.

"And their lasers are tuned to the specific frequency of red-sun radiation. That, of course, does not affect us, but we know who it does affect."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "So they're taking into account that _Superman_ might come down on our side?"

"Perhaps. Remember, not all that long ago, he did renounce his citizenship in the United States, for the sake of not involving the United States in overseas altercations. I understand he has since reversed that, but….

"In any case, having the lasers tuned to those frequencies does not detract from their usefulness as photon based weapons, and may provide some advantage. Tactically, it's a wise move."

"I see. Recommendations?" Raven felt the need to ask, even though she already knew what the Osiran warrior would say.

"A pre-emptive strike. We move first, and take out those ships. They've no doubt some form of backup, most probably stealthed somewhere, but the most immediate threat would be fairly easy to disable, especially with mine and Omega's speed."

"But that's probably what they're counting on. Those ships," she absently chewed on a fingernail, just as she'd seen Robin do, countless times, when he was strategizing. She wasn't even aware she was doing it. "Those ships, the people on them, are a sacrifice, meant to be martyrs. They know, even with their new ordnance, they don't stand a chance against your speed and power. So they're counting on us to make the first move. With those negative matter shells, they do pose a distinct danger to us. So we strike first, they hope. And, Athena, I'll bet you a blueberry waffle that if you 'disabled' either of those ships, they're set to blow, killing everyone on board. Then they can counter-attack with full force, with complete justification. The League might even come down on their side…in fact, I'd be very surprised to learn that wasn't the plan all along. Those men—and women—are essentially a blood sacrifice to the gods of war.

"And fear.

"And if we _don't_ move first, they can still argue they gave us every opportunity to surrender, and our refusal was responsible for any and all actions thereafter. We can't very well be expected to stand by and _not_ defend ourselves, especially against lethal weapons, but, once again, they know their ships have no real chance. So, we strike back, and _they're_ defending _themselves_. It's a Hobson's choice: damned if we do, damned if we don't.

"And if they _do,_ by some chance, manage to take out one or more of us, that only reduces the perceived threat by that much."

"What about the League?"

"The League's in a worse shape than we are. They're not directly involved; they can't make a move without one side or the other making a move first. And they'll be expected to either take the government's side or to take no side. Just stand back and let whatever happens, happen.

"Unless we smash their little fleet out there. In which case, of course, we're the bad guys."

"So…what do we do?" Raven was, after all, their leader.

More fingernail chewing. "I'll have to think about it."

….

The Watchtower: "Sir, you might want to take a look." The technician third-grade looked up from his board of readouts.

J'onn looked at the readouts he was indicating. "I was afraid of this." The Watchtower had been monitoring the events taking place just off Titans' West Tower. They'd heard the order from Admiral Brady. And, like Raven, they'd concluded that, barring a sudden change in circumstances, their hands were tied.

J'onn knew better than to contact the President again. That worthy had made his sentiments completely clear. The League could protest all they wanted, but it would do no good.

However, now matters had taken a more direct and personal turn. The Hunter starship _Exor,_ which, like the _Deson,_ had been stationed in geosynchronous orbit over Titans' Tower, had moved within optimum firing range of the Watchtower. It was well out of the way of the binary fusion cannon, and its force-fields were at full strength. "What are they doing, sir?" The tech was young and nervous; he hadn't seen any action during the Earth-Thanagarian conflict. In fact, mused J'onn, he very likely hadn't been out of grade school then.

"Quite simple," he replied, quietly, there in the control room. Others strained to hear his voice. "It's a warning."

…..

In Raven's room: _{{Are you there?}}_

_**{{Yes, Raven, I am here. I told you I would never leave you.}}**_

_{{I'm sure you know of the recent events.}}_

_**{{Yes.}}**_

_{{What do you recommend I do?}}_

_**{{What do you want to happen?}}**_

_{{Well, for starters, I'd appreciate it if you didn't answer every question with another question.}}_

_**{{Do you believe a question cannot be an answer?}}**_

_{{There you go again.}}_

_**{{Any answer, any solution, will have certain consequences. This is true of everything, of every conundrum of life. I am sure you are already aware of this.}}**_

_{{Alright. I know you could…well, it sounds simplistic, but…I know you could fix any and all of our problems. But I don't know how.}}_

_**{{To be honest, neither do I.}}**_

_{{That's not very reassuring.}}_

_**{{Raven. Once you are merged with Me, you would still exist. You know this, or at least, I hope you do. But you would be changed. You would be different, though not in the ways you might suppose. So therefore, the solutions you—and I—We—would choose might not be the same as the ones you would choose now.**_

_**{{This is why I choose not to make them for you now.}}**_

_{{Then I suppose my question is, what __can__ you do? Given these…limitations?}}_

_**{{I can be here….for you to trust.}}**_

….

The _Saratoga_: Admiral Brady stood on the bridge, his electronically-enhanced field glasses still in his grasp. It had been thirty minutes since he'd delivered his ultimatum to the Titans. Too soon for them to make a decision. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

He was altogether too aware of what he faced. Yeah, the _Saratoga_ and the _Nimitz_ were armed with the absolute cutting edge armaments, specifically designed to take out super-types, but the operators of those weapons were still only human. No matter what their cannons were loaded with, no matter what frequencies their lasers were tuned to, no matter how they were intricately linked to the ships' computer network, they were still directed and controlled by human beings, human beings with only human reaction time. In the next instant, he could easily expect to find his ships with a dozen holes in them, below the water line. And that would be only if the Osirans chose to employ a non-lethal attack.

A lethal attack…they might be lucky to get off one shot before everybody on board would die.

….

"Mr. President! This is an outrage!" The speaker's face was nearly as red as his tie. "You have, on your own authority, essentially declared war on an enemy within our own borders! An 'enemy' that has never shown any sign of hostilities, or even, or even…" The speaker ran out of words and breath at the same time.

"Unless you count their disobeying a direct order from the highest realms of government. Mr. Speaker, I understand your concerns, and, frankly, agree with them, for the most part. But the far-reaching consequences of this matter, of this refusal to obey such an order, is why it is being handled in the way it is."

"The Constitution…" sputtered Red Tie, "specifically forbids sending the American military against U. S. citizens. Even, even if some of the Titans aren't citizens, even if they aren't even from this planet, many more _are._ This action is unlawful no matter how you look at it."

The President sighed. He'd seen this coming, voiced these very objections to his advisors. But… "But once again, we're left with the potential consequences of doing nothing. If there were an alien armada in orbit over our planet right now—and coincidently, there _are_ two alien warships in orbit over Titans' Tower—we would not have any moral qualms about seeing to our own defense. A defense that might best be begun by an effective offense. I'm sorry, Al. Believe me, I _tried_ to find some way around this."

…..

In the Crimson's cave: "Master? I await your commands."

_Soon, Mirissa, my disciple. Soon, I will feast. And then…._

_To be continued…_


	40. Chapter 40: A Time For War

Tales of the Titans: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 40: A Time For War

…..

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Much as I'd like to._

…_._

Chapter 40: A Time For War

"Time's running out," Raven said, chewing on a knuckle, staring out at the view from the Tower's uppermost level. "Athena, has O-*" But the Osiran warrior wasn't there. "Where…?" Then she saw.

Athena had flown out and positioned herself three hundred feet in the air, less than a kilometer from the _Saratoga._ Although her back was to Raven, the sorceress could tell from her stance that the Osiran was operating in what was clearly combat mode. _"Shit!"_

Blackfire rushed in, startled to hear the word coming from the sorceress. She hadn't thought Raven even _knew_ that word. "Raven, what's—oh, my goddess!" Blackfire's normally orange skin paled as she saw her lover positioning herself directly in the path of the _Saratoga's_ heavy artillery. "What the _hell_ is she _doing?"_

"Sacrificing herself," replied Raven. "I should have seen this coming. She's deliberately goading them into making the first move." She sighed. "She leaves me no choice." And Blackfire watched in astonishment as the dark girl disappeared into a circle of blackness….

The _Saratoga:_ "All hands! Prepare to fire!" Admiral Brady had just seen the Osiran warrior, the female known as _Athena_, appear in front of his ships. Even from here, he could see her eyes glowing as she gathered her energy…vaguely, even though his battle honed reflexes hammered out the orders, he wondered why she hadn't already struck… "Fire!"

The negative matter projectiles rocketed towards the Osiran floating in front of the ships, closing the distance too fast for the human eye to follow. They were laser-locked and guided; they would not miss….

And suddenly, Raven appeared out of a circle of darkness right in front of Athena.

Right in front of the artillery.

The shells struck the sorceress and exploded, releasing their negative matter contents. Unlike antimatter, negative matter did not generate a vast explosion, but merely a mutual cancellation of itself and an analogous amount of matter. The shells struck Raven fully, and both she and they disappeared from view.

….

The Watchtower: J'onn J'onnz watched, as impassively as he could, as the sorceress caught the full might of the negative matter projectiles, shielding Athena with her own body. He could see, and sense, with his own Martian senses, the human admiral giving the order to fire at will.

The war had begun in earnest.

…

Athena watched in horror as the n-matter shells enveloped the sorceress. This was not the way it was supposed to go! She was a frontline soldier, genetically designed especially for combat. _She_ should have been the first casualty. Enraged, she flew at hypersonic speed straight for the _Saratoga…_

…and _bounced_ off of a silver hemisphere that suddenly appeared around both ships. Such was her force that she ricocheted off the side of the bubble, hurtling into a nearby rocky ledge that protruded from the bay around Titans' Tower with enough force to shatter it entirely. Smashing her way out of the crater she'd created, Athena again prepared to charge the boats, but stopped when she saw what had happened.

The silver hemisphere was actually a sphere around the two warships. It appeared as a hemisphere, a bubble, as it seemed to rest upon the water, but her senses told her it extended all the way underneath them as well. It was impenetrable to her senses; she could not see into it, nor sense, in any way, anything within.

"_Athena!"_ Blackfire's voice came over her 'comm, _"What are you doing? Get back here! What happened to Raven? And what's happened out there?"_ Athena couldn't blame her for sounding nearly hysterical.

"I'm coming in." She scanned the sphere, making sure it was what she thought it was. It was. She traced the lines of force back to Omega's underground lab. "I think Omega has found a way to win this war without loss of life."

"_Hey, I helped!"_ Gizmo's voice came over the link. _"But yeah, we need to regroup. It's his show now."_

Athena flew back to the Tower, and was immediately swamped by Blackfire. "What _were_ you thinking?" The Tameranean had Athena in what would be a bone-bending embrace on a human. "Don't _ever_ scare me like that again! I thought I'd lost you!"

Athena stroked Blackfire's hair. "I was never in quite the danger I appeared to be. Remember, I do have super-speed; I could easily outdistance or detonate the projectiles harmlessly. Unfortunately," she paused, glancing over at Hank, who was more pale than any of them had ever seen him, "I could not protect Raven. I…I am afraid she is gone."

"_No…_" It was only a whisper, but it had the intensity of a scream. Hank turned, and ran off down the corridor.

Only Athena's superhearing could hear his sobs.

Later: the Titans and Gizmo, minus Hank, sat around the conference table. Omega was, once again, curiously absent. He'd been doing that a lot lately, and something about his absences triggered an alarm in the back of Athena's mind. Something wasn't right. "Kitten? Is Omega alright?"

"Yeah. He came up with…well, I'll let Giz here explain it."

"Before he does," broke in Cyborg, "What about Raven? She took the full brunt of those shells…"

"Yes." Athena's voice was somber. "She teleported right in front of me. I could not stop her in time. I cannot sense her; the negative matter shell must have…cancelled her own matter out. I am afraid she is dead."

The assembled Titans were silent. First blood; one of their own had died today. "Why? Why did she do it?"

Athena sighed, a human gesture she'd picked up. "She did it because she's—she _was_—Raven. And Raven wanted nothing more than to safeguard the lives of all of us…even if it meant sacrificing her own life. Which she did."

Again there was a silence, as each Titan grieved in his or her own way. Then Kitten got up. "I'm gonna go check on Hank. I…I don't think it's a good idea for him to be alone right now."

"Good thinking, Kitten." She left, and Cyborg turned his attention to Gizmo. They'd have to take time to mourn their dead comrade later; for now, they had a war on their hands. "Okay, so exactly what did you and Omega come up with, Giz?"

"Yeah, alright." Gizmo activated the table, and it came alive, showing the scans and sensor readings, and also showing the designs for the weapon they'd come up with. "What's out there, in the harbor now, is a spherical field of time-stasis. No time passes within that bubble. Those ships and their crews are perfectly safe—in fact, they're safer than anybody else right now—but they're out of the fight." He made some passes over the table, pressing virtual buttons. "Omega? Are you ready for the next step?"

"Wait," said Cyborg, "Just what _is_ the 'next step'?"

"We take out the opposition."

….

All across the American continent, silver bubbles began to appear, first over military bases, then over strategic towns, cutting off supply lines. Once the bubble was formed, all communication from within ceased. No weapon, no force, no matter how powerful, could penetrate a stasis field, because any weapon requires time to work, and no time passed within the bubbles. The country was in an uproar, with what military leaders were left frantically trying to coordinate field activities…then, they, too, went silent.

Military troops from various nations, there at the behest of the U. N., either milled about uncertainly, did nothing at all, or a combination of both. They had no orders, and all avenues of communication were rapidly being nullified. Then their own cities and bases began to be enveloped.

Washington, D. C. was in complete chaos. The military was all but completely immobilized. "Mr. President, you are Commander-in-chief. What are your orders?"

"I, I don't know what to do." He turned to his advisors. "What are we dealing with?"

"The Titans have found a way to put whole cities in time-stasis fields. Everyone inside that field is unharmed, but to us, they may as well not exist. We can't break through those fields."

"Not even with the negative matter devices?"

"No, Mr. President. Negative matter still requires time and matter to work, to cancel out. The stasis fields prohibit that. All of our production facilities have already been targeted, and now reside under domes themselves. All secondary and tertiary facilities we've opened have met with a similar fate.

"It's up to you to authorize its use, but it would be most effective used as a weapon against the force-shielded areas…however, should we use it, we could easily escalate matters."

"Escalate them?"

"Right now, the Titans have responded with a non-lethal attack. I hate to admit it, but it's actually a very restrained one. There's nothing to say that further casualties—our best-case scenario—would not provoke them into a more lethal response. Perhaps one of a truly horrific nature."

"So that's out." The President groaned, holding his head in his hands. He'd known, going into this, that the forces arrayed against them could easily prove to be insurmountable. The Titans' own adopted Osiran tech combined with Kindred technology had been the biggest unknown, and that was the very reason he'd ordered the drastic actions he had, in the hopes of nipping a problem in the bud, before it came to….

….Before it came to this. "Get me the Watchtower."

….

"_Mr. President,"_ J'onn J'onnz's image was, as always, grave, but to the President's eye it seemed more so than usual. _"I'd say good evening, but I don't think it is."_

"Too right, J'onn. Tell me, can the League do anything?"

"_Like what? Mr. President, we don't have the means to crack open a stasis field either. Even Superman's Kryptonian technology is helpless before this. What you're seeing is the very thing we warned you about. Osiran technology is light-years beyond anything we've access to. I understand even Apokolips's military forces, their space fleet, was virtually powerless before it."_

"Can you, as superbeings, help us? Don't any of you have the power to do…something?"

"_Actually, no. Even our combined physical might cannot breach a stasis field, nor can any magic penetrate it. For all intents and purposes, those places so enclosed have ceased to exist._

"_Bear in mind, Mr. President, that none of the people under those bubbles have died. They're simply…on hold. Until the Titans choose to release them. If they do._

"_I expect they have spared Washington, D. C. for the most obvious of reasons."_

"I don't know what to do anymore, J'onn. We've done our best, and it wasn't good enough. This is what I was afraid would happen."

"_Mr. President, it isn't my intention to add to your distress, but I did warn you that your actions could force the Titans to take measures, responses they might ordinarily not make. Now it has happened._

"_As an advisor, I fear there is only one recourse open to you at this point."_

"People of America." The President stood before the podium as he addressed the nation on a live broadcast. He'd taken the time to rest, get cleaned up, and now felt better. He now knew there was only one thing to do. Other nations around the globe had communicated that they'd come to the same conclusion. "I come before you tonight to make a very grave announcement. Due to recent…incidents, we have been involved in a military conflict with the group known as the Teen Titans. I understand they have suffered a casualty, for which I personally regret.

"But recent events have left me no choice.

"As of today, at this very moment, the government of the United States, and those nations allied with us in this recent conflict, surrenders unconditionally to the Teen Titans."

_To be continued…._


	41. Chapter 41: The Hallowing

Tales of the Titans: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results: Chapter 41: The Hallowing

...

_I don't own the Teen Titans, or the franchise. _

_Continuing the countdown..._

_..._

Chapter 41: The Hallowing

"Well," said Cyborg, in a whisper, "We won. We actually won."

"I only wish that…" Athena found she couldn't go on. Blackfire, sitting beside her, stroked her arm in sympathy. She knew what her lover was wishing. The same thing they were all wishing:

_I only wish Raven were still alive to see it._

"How…how's Hank?" Just the core Titans were around the conference table right now. They'd call a general meeting in a moment, but first…

"He's…coping," said Kitten. "Of course, he's devastated. None of us foresaw Raven doing what she did. But I should have." This last was said in a vicious undertone. "I should've known she'd do just this sort of thing." Alice, sitting beside her, put a supportive hand on her shoulder.

"You couldn't know, Kitten," said Athena. "You said it yourself." She drew a deep, completely unnecessary breath. "Perhaps we need to call that general meeting."

…..

The monitors showed the other Titans' groups from around the world: Stalingrad, London, Steel City, Beijing, Hong Kong, Tokyo, Rio de Janeiro, and others. They also showed the San Francisco headquarters of the H.I.V.E group, with Jinx, Kid Flash, Control Freak, Johnny Rotten, Kid Wykkyd, Angel, Mammoth, and many others who'd sided with the Titans. One set of monitors also showed Omega, down in his lab, with Kitten looking over his shoulder. Another showed the Kindred's hive, with Father Alpha, Delta and Theta looking on. Still another showed Talks-to-God, on board the Hunter starship _Deson. _Every face on the screen was solemn and grave. Everyone had known that people die in war, and that this was war. But nothing prepares you for having somebody you personally know taken from you so abruptly. Nothing prepares you for Eternity.

"Why haven't you busted up those ships?" growled Johnny Rancid. He was standing over by Control Freak, who, it seemed to Cyborg, was looking a little more shell-shocked than he would have thought. He wondered why Control Freak should be especially affected. Well. Didn't matter. "Unlock 'em and send 'em straight to Davey Jones's locker. That's what they expected, anyway, wasn't it? So give 'em what they asked for."

"Because Raven sacrificed her life to save lives, not to take them. We need to honor that…to the best of our ability. And it isn't over yet.

"Yes, the U.S. and its allies did surrender. But that doesn't mean there'll be no resistance." He glanced at Gizmo, sitting beside him. There was a scrap of paper sticking out of Gizmo's pocket. Cyborg had noticed him stealing glances at it every so often. It intrigued him; what could it be? "And we still have the Justice League to consider. We're not megalomaniacs who set out to conquer the world; we were trying to defend ourselves. The moment we lose sight of that, _we_ become the very thing Raven gave her life to prevent.

"First thing we gotta do, I guess, is appoint a new leader."

Athena shook her head. "No question about that, Victor," she said. "You."

_He_ shook _his_ head. "No. Not me. Anybody seen Robin?"

"No we haven't, and yes you. You once told Raven there was nobody better qualified…now that applies to you. Just as she had a responsibility, so do you."

He sighed, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. "I…guess you're right. But I don't have to like it."

"In that you are most correct. You do not."

"_Alright,_" said Jinx, over the monitor, _"Now that __that's__ settled, what's our next move? We won; what do we do now?"_

Cyborg took a moment, while his link with the Tower's computer systems processed thousands of years of military history. A lot of the solutions that had been used in the past didn't appeal to him. But some did. "First, we have to accept formal surrender. Give people closure. Then, we have to take pains to reassure the people—the civilians and the military that's left as well—that we're not here to ride roughshod over them, or plunder their homes or steal their women, or what have you. There'll still be pockets of resistance, more than likely, but even a 'soft' attack like this will leave an awful lot of chaos. We have to show 'em we're not the bad guys. World War II, Pacific Theater: when the allies took over previously occupied islands, first thing they did was show the people they weren't monsters. Many people may already think we're monsters anyway, even without all this. We have to show 'em otherwise.

"But in the process, we have to take control of the economy, of every aspect of it. Right now, we can't delegate _any_thing, no matter how trivial, to anybody else. Has to be us, our own. Anything less would leave some leeway for someone to start something…regrettable. And that'll also help solidify our image in the minds and hearts of the people. We'll need the help of the Kindred and the Hunters in doing so.

"Then, and only then, unlock those cities, cities first, and, once control is assured, and everybody's more or less plugged back into the electrical and supply lines, including water sources—you know those got disrupted-then the military bases, one at a time. It'll take some doing, but it's the only way.

"We may be rulers, in fact, I don't see how we could be anything else right now. But we don't have to come across as despots."

…

What had happened rapidly became known as "The Soft War." No lives—save one—had been lost, and while supply lines, power and communication cables had been cut, those were speedily restored. Cyborg and Athena were present on the island when the President came to formally surrender. "Mr. President," said Cyborg, "for what it's worth, I'm sorry matters came to this point."

The president sighed. _So this is how it ends._ The United States had the oldest continuous government on the planet; every other nation had undergone revolutions or re-organizations that effectively worked out to be the same. But all that came to a halt today. He'd be the last U. S. president. "I…know, er, Cyborg. And, for what it's worth, I…regret your loss. Admiral Brady was operating on my orders, and mine alone." He squared his shoulders. "I accept full responsibility for Raven's death. Whatever…actions you deem justified, I accept fully."

Cyborg shook his head. "There'll be no 'war crimes' tribunal here, sir. We're not out for retribution." He showed the president the document, and handed him a pen. "Sign here, please."

….

Up in the tower: Kitten quietly entered a darkened room on an upper story floor. There was a figure in the shadows, over by the window. "Don't," she said, softly.

Hank didn't even look around. He made no reply, but just continued to look out the window, as the president signed the document of formal surrender. "You know she wouldn't want you to do that, Hank."

Now he sighed. "I…know, Kitten. And that's the only thing stopping me from…" He trailed off, but Kitten could supply the rest. Hank was a telepath, their only true telepath, in fact, and had, at his disposal, the power to seriously hurt or even kill the man he held to be responsible for Raven's death. He got up, turning away from the window. Kitten could see the tear tracks still running down his face, and realized they were from more than sorrow. He was fighting himself, keeping himself from lashing out with his power. Kitten didn't like to think about what he could do, should he just let himself go. _Could I be as restrained as he is?_ She wondered. _If that had been Omega…_

The next day: the world was still stunned to learn that the biggest superpower on the planet had surrendered to a group of teenage superheroes. Some people—not all of them in other countries-rejoiced at what they saw as the defeat of a hated enemy, but the vast majority looked on nervously; now the destiny of the human race was in the hands of people—beings—some of whom weren't even human.

Effective control of the planet was now in the hands of unknown forces, unknown powers. Even those sovereign nations that had not been a part of the surrender, that retained their autonomy, could not help but be affected. The old ways, "business as usual," didn't apply anymore. Many government officials around the world fretted about the political ramifications of the nations of the world being subject to what they rightly perceived as "idealists."

In political circles, idealism, pure idealism, had been known to spell disaster.

Some welcomed the transition. The Titans and their various affiliated groups went out of their way to restore what little damage had been done. The unlocking of the military bases began once economic control was solidified.

Many of the military commanders immediately began to implement contingency plans for just such an emergency. These had been foreseen and were rapidly dealt with. Kindred technology suppressed the use of the humans' weapons systems, and warbots were deployed, armed with both nonlethal and lethal antipersonnel weapons, to subdue the human troops. What losses there were—and there were some—were confined to a few ill-advised "resistance" attempts by those who could not accept the fact that they were no longer a sovereign nation.

But in the end, the military commanders had no choice but to recognize that the U. S. and its allies had, in fact, lost the war.

…

Raven awoke to darkness.

She was lying on a hard surface, yet it didn't seem uncomfortable, somehow. There was blackness all around, but as she became aware and awake, it was like a spotlight opened up on her from above, a spotlight with no source. Something like music seemed to be playing in the background….at least, she at first thought it was music. Then she realized she was not actually hearing it with her ears, but somehow with her mind, and it really wasn't music at all. It seemed to serve the same purpose, however. Her head hurt, but even as she grew conscious of that, the pain began to recede. She sat up.

_**{{That,}}**_ said a voice in her mind, _**{{was wholly and completely uncalled for.}}**_

She laughed a shaky laugh. "You keep telling me to trust you, and now when I do, you get upset? You can't have it both ways."

She sensed the Entity grumbling. _**{{I call myself omniscient, but you keep surprising me. So what was the purpose of this…stunt?}}**_

"Oh, come on. I _did_ trust you. Isn't that what you wanted all along? Sort of?" She looked around. "Where am I?"

_**{{You are within Me, of course.}}**_

"Er…I'm not assimilated, am I?"

_**{{Of course not. This is not assimilation; if you were assimilated, you'd know it. No, you're simply…in a safe place inside Me.}}**_

Athena… "Did it work? Athena's not hurt, is she?"

_**{{No, she's unharmed. I took care of the negative matter shells, of course. Though I can't guarantee she won't want to throttle you upon your return. Everybody thinks you're dead.}}**_

"Azar…the war…"

_**{{It's over. The Titans won. The world is yours.}}**_

Her eyes widened. "You're kidding."

_**{{There are many things I might be tempted to kid about, but that isn't one of them. Besides, I'm not in the mood.}}**_

She stood up. It was really a strange place; somehow oddly more…comfortable than the reality she'd known. Raven had never really felt at peace in her whole life, but she felt at peace here, strangely enough. Maybe this was a different reality? She reached out a hand, reaching towards the darkness around the spot of light that shone around her. "I know you're upset. I guess I should apologize. I really didn't mean to upset you…or anybody. I only did what I felt like I had to do.

"Are we still friends?"

More grumbling. Then, she sensed the Entity doing the equivalent of rolling Its eyes. _**{{Of course we are. For the love of Me, you think I'd go to all this trouble for somebody who **__**wasn't**__** a friend?}}**_

…**..**

The tortured man's screams had stopped, to be replaced by heavy, irregular breathing. Mirissa knew it wouldn't be long now.

The Crimson always chose a specific type: usually one of the upper class, used to privilege, and overly-confident in his own ability to handle any situation. Then, the introduction of pain began.

The usual way was surprise and bargaining. The victim would, of course, rage at them. Didn't they know who he was? When it became apparent that that approach was ineffective, he would offer money, power, anything at all to cause the pain to cease. Which, of course, did not cease.

Later on, when the resigned victim was just coming to point of fervently wishing for a reasonably quick death, then the torture was reduced, just a little, and hints were given that the victim might be released. And invariably at that point, the victim began to entertain notions of revenge, of returning to this icy cavern with his own company of mercenaries and personally blasting his tormentors to pieces, slowly, even as they begged for mercy…a mercy which would be denied, naturally.

At that exact moment did the knife come down.

Mirissa stood over the cooling corpse, the bloody knife still in her hand. _Ah, Mirissa, my disciple. It is truly a shame that you cannot partake of this banquet with me._ The Crimson, sitting on its throne, wearing the body of the monster Doomsday, wore an expression of delight. It had exacting tastes in its choice of food, as it absorbed the pain, suffering, and rage of the victim. Mirissa wondered if it also absorbed the food's soul. Possibly. She didn't care, either way.

She kicked the body off the mountaintop. The torture had been very exacting, and damage on the way down, plus the actions of the inevitable scavengers, would effectively conceal any evidence of anything unusual. Cause of death would be put down as "misadventure." "Master, I wonder when you will permit me to pursue my righteous revenge upon the slut Markov."

_Soon, Mirissa. One comes who will provide me with an even greater meal, and in the confusion, your vengeance shall be accomplished._

_These Titans think they rule the world. They will soon discover just how wrong they are. _

_There is far more to the world than they dream of._

…_._

Miles below the surface of Manhattan, Beulah Bleak sat, reading the signs.

They were encouraging but not good. It was as the Titans were saying: the universe was coming apart at the seams, due mostly to the impact of all the negative acts. Beulah Bleak didn't have the education to know about Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, or any other part of the math, but the education she did have—the dark arts—was showing her enough.

Things were rapidly deteriorating.

She had tried to find an escape route for her and her people, but that was slow going, and marked by uncertainty. Opening portals to other dimensions was always a bit tricky. One never knew just exactly what was on the other side.

She needed more time. And the best way to achieve that was to wipe out all the surface dwellers, at once. Such an action would certainly reduce the number of negative actions on their part, and therefore lessen the chance that Ragnarok would happen tomorrow.

Beulah Bleak very much wanted to see tomorrow. And if millions had to die so that she and her people could live, so be it.

The _Other_ that she'd sensed, and that she'd sacrificed Malchior to summon, was taking its own sweet time. Maybe it had gotten lost, or distracted. Perhaps another sacrifice was called for.

But who? She knew of no more dragons, which was a pity. Dragons made such lovely sacrifices, with all that pent-up magical energy burning its way through the atmosphere like a searchlight beacon, which, in a way, it was.

Then she remembered something, and smiled a truly terrible smile. Yes. There was one other source of vast, untapped magical power on Earth. And, best of all, it was, at the moment, uniquely unable to defend itself. Why, it would probably make an even better sacrifice than Malchior.

All she had to do was somehow manage to steal away the body of the one they called "Beast Boy."

The son of Trigon would certainly make an excellent sacrifice.

_To be continued…_


	42. Chapter 42: Machinations

Tales of the Titans: Godwar Part 3: The Faith That Would Bring Them Results

Chapter 42: Machinations

….

_Hello, once more, faithful ones. Sorry it's been so long since a post, but the world got in the way. However, here begins the final countdown to the End of my "Tales of the Titans" stories. So if you've enjoyed them, please relish them while you can. And thank you for your loyalty and your reviews._

…

_I don't own the Teen Titans. Be nice._

…_._

Chapter 42: Machinations

"Same thing?" Blackfire was looking at the brown cardboard box Athena had just retrieved from just outside their door. Even Athena's superhearing hadn't been able to detect its arrival; she had simply noticed it being there.

Athena opened the box—addressed, as always, to "Titans' Tower, room 2111B." Their room.

Inside was a golden rose, complete with a cut crystal vase. Athena read the note:

"_You cannot trust him!_

"_She is in danger!"_

It was signed, like all the other times, "Your Secret Admirer," with the strange sigil that Raven had told them was the symbol for Asmodeus. "So…what d'you suppose this means, 'Thena? I mean, Raven's….Raven's dead. How can she be in danger?"

Athena's eyes narrowed. "I can conceive of several scenarios where Raven could still be in considerable danger. However, logically, we must also allow for the possibility that the 'she' in question is not Raven." She thought for a moment, and Komi could almost see the mental wheels turning inside the Osiran's brain. Athena was not only a warrior, but also, back in the days of the Osiran Empire had been a scientist, nearly the equal of any of the Thinker class. "We have two elements: one, a 'she' who is in danger. But we also have a 'he' who cannot be trusted. Now, the fact that the note mentions them both at the same time would indicate, to me, that they are linked. So. A 'he' who is dangerous to a 'she.' But who could that be?"

"So what are you thinking?"

Instead of replying directly, Athena gestured, and the air in front of them came alive with a diagram, made visible by the Osiran technique of "photon manipulation." "Logically speaking, these are the linkages most likely to be referred to, in order of tactical importance, at least, with as much information as we currently possess."

_He__: __She__:_

_Entity Raven_

_Robin Starfire_

_Hank Raven_

_Garfield Terra_

_Omega Kitten_

"You listed Raven twice."

"I know. As I said, merely because she is dead does not mean she is in no danger. But these are the males whom we trust, and their linked lovers."

Blackfire wrinkled up her nose. Athena couldn't help but think how cute she looked when she did that. It was most distracting. "Soooo…..the Entity and Raven? Lovers?"

"'Lovers' might be the incorrect term in that case, at least, as far as the human experience goes. But they are two beings, one male—or at least, seeming to present itself as male—and the other female, who have a close relationship."

"And…Hank?"

Athena shook her head. "As I said, there could be several scenarios wherein Raven could still be in danger. And he is closely associated with her. I included him because of that."

"Why Gar and Terra? He's, like, comatose!"

"Things can change rapidly. And we have been receiving these warnings for some time now. It cannot be overlooked, is what I'm saying.

"In battle, it is the things that get overlooked that get you killed."

Blackfire thought. "We'd best get with Cyborg."

…..

Terra was dreaming. In her dream, she tossed and turned.

The others had finally prevailed upon her to leave the observation room. Intellectually, she knew they were right: there was nothing she could do. The Orb was doing all it could to heal her husband (but would it be enough?); now, if only she could convince herself of that.

The mind is easier to convince than the heart.

The dream: She was somewhere in a dark, dark place. There was no indication of anyone or anything else, but just on the edge of her consciousness, she could just make out a voice: "_Terra? Terra? It's me, Garfield. Why did you leave me, Terra? I thought you loved me. But you left me. Why?"_

"I _didn't_ leave you! I, I'm _right here_! I've been here the whole time! Where are you?"

"_But you left me. You left me to get shot, back there at our house. If you hadn't left me, I wouldn't be hurt. You left me. I thought you loved me."_

"I DO love you! Gar, _where are you?"_ No matter how hard she looked and searched, she couldn't tell where the voice was coming from.

"_I'm in the Orb, right where you left me. But I'm dying, Terra. The Orb can't cure me. Soon I'll be dead. And it'll all be your fault."_

"_NO!_ I, I won't let it happen! I'll do, I'll do anything, Gar! Anything! _Just tell me what to do."_

"_Anything?"_

"_Any_thing. I _love_ you, Garfield Logan! _Just tell me what to do!"_

….

The entity known as the Orb was "sitting" in its quarters when the door leading to its room signaled. Someone wanted in. The Orb's senses told it who it was.

**{{Terra?}}**

"Yes, Orb. It's me." To the Orb's senses, it seemed as though its friend was not totally awake. But she was not asleep, either. The Orb pondered that. Its knowledge of humans was still incomplete, and, in some respects, would always be so, due to its totally nonhuman nature. "I've come to take Garfield away. There's somebody who can cure him."

{{**Friend Terra? Is this wise**?}} Even as far removed from humanity as the Orb was, it could tell something was wrong.

"Yeah, Orb. It's okay. I've found somebody who can cure him. Just let me take him, now." And Terra summoned up dust particles scoured from the room and hallway into a makeshift carrying sling for Beast Boy's unconscious body.

{{**Terra? Are you sure? He will not last long outside me**.}}

"Yeah, Orb. It's okay. Really." And Terra smiled a dreamlike smile, her eyes glistening in a way even the Orb found peculiar.

And disturbing.

But the Orb could think of no reason to refuse her request, and so extruded the body of Garfield Logan out onto the floating bed of particles Terra had conjured up. "You'll see, Orb. Don't worry. It'll all work out."

…..

In a cavern high up in the mountains: The Crimson, in the body of the monster Doomsday, sat, rubbing its chin, and seeing with senses humans wouldn't even suspect existed for nearly a thousand years or more. As usual, its disciple, Mirissa, was in attendance._ {{So, Mirissa. It seems that matters have taken a turn whereby you might be able to execute your just revenge upon the spawn of the House of Markovia.}}_

"Yes, My Lord?" Mirissa's ears perked up. She'd waited oh so very long to hear those very words. "Tell me, please!"

_{{Another has taken the body of the spawn of my great enemy, removed him from the protection of the being called "the Orb." Her goal is unclear to me, but it seems she wishes to sacrifice him for some reason. What matters is, he is no longer in the Orb, and thus, he is vulnerable to our machinations.}}_

"Master, I understand. We can take this mortal from her, and I can have my way with him, thus tormenting the slut who took Brian from me." Her eyes glimmered a cold light. "Perhaps, with his changeable biology, I can transform him into something truly hideous, perhaps even something deadly to her. Or, even better, no physical change, but a transformation of his mind that would repulse her. That would be _most_ satisfying. But how will we do this?"

_{{We must plan. The others of his group are still mourning the death of one of their own, but two of them are alert to some unspecified danger. I know not where the warnings are from, but it matters not. But they will be on the alert._

_{{For now, we must bide our time.}}_

…..

"Another golden rose?" Cyborg rubbed his one human eye. Athena and Blackfire had awakened him, and, although he didn't require as much sleep as a human normally would, he still needed _some._ And he was rapidly finding out that the job of being leader came with the downside of losing a lot of sleep. He didn't know how the all-human Robin had ever stood it. "What d'you suppose it could mean?"

"We've no idea. But clearly, judging from the added urgency of the message, it must be more immediate than we thought, and perhaps more dangerous."

"Okay. I think I'll give Alpha a call. Maybe he can shed some light on this…at least tell us where these things could be coming from."

…

"_No, Cyborg_," said Alpha's synthesized voice. The leader of the Kindred, they who had once been of the Osiran Thinker caste before coming to Earth, wore a pendant around his neck that translated his unspoken words into verbal speech. _"I have already examined this matter, and there seems to be no way to trace the origin of these mysterious packages."_ The Kindred had once been considered as hostile to the Titans, a threat of incalculable proportions, and Cyborg marveled at how things had changed_. "Has your Omega any insights? I understand he has been working, nearly non-stop, on the hypercrystal."_ Omega had been working overtime on the piece of Osiran technology they'd stolen from the other dimension, where the Osiran Empire was at its height.

The Kindred still had some distrust of the two Prime warriors, in spite of their continued association with them. They'd come from a time when Prime warriors had been regarded with fear and distrust, and old habits—old ways of thinking—died very hard indeed.

"No. He's got nothing more than you. You have any ideas as to who this 'he' might be?"

"_No more than your Athena has. I do not see how your fallen colleague could be in continued danger, but theology is not our strong point. And our association with you has opened up to us ways other than the purely scientific, whereby the essential part of one may survive the death of the physical body._

"_But judging from our own perspective, perhaps it is one of the other males that this message refers to. I, personally, would assign the highest priority to either Omega, or possibly, to you, as leader."_

"Me?"

"_The message does not __necessarily__ warn against betrayal. It could conceivably mean lack of skill or ability, or a mistake made._" He paused. _"I, of course, mean no offense."_ It had taken the Kindred some time to acclimate themselves to the human custom of tact and civility. Cyborg understood that Alpha meant no harm; it was simply the way his logical mind worked.

And, in truth, he'd considered the same thing, himself.

After the recent "Soft War," in which the Titans had met the ultimatum of the assembled world powers, they, as a group, had effectively, and somewhat unexpectedly, found themselves in control of the planet. The various governments had surrendered to the Titans' attack of having their cities placed within stasis fields, removed from the board. There had been no other choice.

But even now, in the aftermath of that war, the Titans were discovering that _saving_ the world wasn't the same as _running_ the world.

They had taken economic control of most of the resources of the entire planet. Only those whom they trusted completely were allowed to make decisions. This had not set very well with the Justice League, but even the Justice League had, after their own consideration, found nothing particularly villainous about their actions, even if they still didn't trust many of the beings who were currently allied with the Titans, beings who had once been considered super villains. The consensus among them had been that it was more of a civil, rather than a criminal action, and one that had been initiated by those same governments. That the outcome had not been to the liking of those governments was not the League's concern.

The League had a standing policy of non-interference in matters of a military nature. They had not interfered during the recent actions in the Middle East, even though there were clear human-rights violations ongoing. The only thing they had done was to run a kind of point defense against the illegal and inhumane actions of those governments against civilians. But the overthrow of those hostile governments was not their job. They were not an extension of anyone's military.

And the simple truth was, without those same former villains, the Titans just didn't have the manpower necessary to effectively govern the planet. Strange, thought Cyborg, that now they were trusting some of the very same people who, previously, hadn't been considered trustworthy. Who would have imagined Johnny Rancid as governor of the northwestern United States? Who would have imagined that he would do such a good job of it? The former criminal had actually reduced crime by thirteen percent, and without instituting any draconian measures or martial law. He simply knew how criminals worked. _Okay, so…if I'm the "he," then who's the "she"? Raven, or her ghost?_ "I guess I keep looking." He'd already run several probability programs through the Titans' Osiran-redesigned computers, with no more results than he had now. "Very well." He changed his tone. "How's Angelique?"

"_She is well. She begins her first day of school at the academy set up by your Justice League, and I understand Missy and Alice were supposed to register with her as well, in spite of Alice's obvious age difference."_

"Don't suppose you've been…" He let his voice trail off.

"_We have had no more success in unraveling Alice's peculiar predicament than you. It is unlike Missy's, which appears to be based upon certain scientific principles previously suspected; Alice's appears to be based upon a science—if it can even be called that—that conforms to laws completely foreign to us or anything in our existence. I find its mere presence to be more troubling than any actual attack."_ Angelique, the adopted daughter of the leader of the Kindred, had come to occupy a special place in all their hearts, and she'd brought some friends.

"Well, I know you and your people don't get out much, so should there be anything you'd need or even just like us to do, you know we will." He sat back. "It was thoughtful of the JLU to set up that academy." _And the timing was interesting, too. Just about the same time it became apparent we'd go head to head with the U. S. government…that's got "Batman" written all over it._

"_We will keep that in mind. Was there anything else?"_

"No, I guess that's pretty much it." He closed communications with Alpha and settled back, his computer-enhanced brain rifling through reports, scans, faxes, all while his physical body continued to sit at the monitor screen.

**{{Cyborg? Victor?}}** It was the mental "voice" of the Orb. Instantly, Cyborg perked up, his previous paperless paperwork forgotten. "Yeah, Orb?" He knew it wasn't necessary to reply verbally to the alien entity, but he did so out of habit. They all did.

**{{I am concerned, but I do not know if I should be.}}**

That was a curious statement. "Okay…uh, what about?"

**{{I am curious to know where Terra is taking the one you call Beast Boy. Ever since she left with his body, I have been unable to track her, or him.}}**

"Wait. Orb, you mean…Terra took Gar's body out of you? Why?"

**{{She said she had found someone to treat him, who would be able to do so with greater efficacy than I. Are you saying you were unaware of this?}}**

"I'll _say_ we weren't! What is she _thinking?_"

**{{I cannot answer that.}}**

"I know, Orb. It's a figure of speech." Frantically, he began scouring the area nearby for any sign of Terra's subcutaneous transponder. All the Titans wore them; they'd come in handy on more than one occasion

Nothing. He widened his search. The tiny transmitter didn't put out much signal; it couldn't. But adjust the sensitivity as he might, he could pick up no trace of the faint signal. He opened a communications channel to all Titans, including their allies among the former supervillains. "Hey, everybody. We gotta a situation here."

As in a dream, Terra brought Garfield's body to a large open space high atop one of the mountains in the San Bernardino range. She wasn't really seeing anything of the real world; to her, this looked like a very high-tech clinic. "Ah, yes," said the doctor, who came out to meet them. She looked just like Terra had pictured her: medium-tall, her head in a bandanna, black outfit, clad in black leggings. Terra had never heard of medical fashion of that nature, but what the hell. If it got Garfield back on his feet, she didn't care if the doctor was naked. Something in the back of her mind, some alarm, went off, but, in her dream state, Terra ignored it. In a dream, everything makes sense.

"So this is Mr. Logan. Well, he couldn't be in better hands. Just bring him this way…" And she led Terra, still levitating her husband, into the clinic.

In her dream state, she couldn't see that were was no clinic, that all there was a huge cleared area, surrounded by a circle of odd-looking metallic dust.

…..

_**{{Raven? I believe it is time for you to rejoin your friends.}}**_

"Finally! I don't know what you've been waiting for." Raven had been here, within the Entity, for a time she couldn't really measure. It was never day or night here, and it seemed as though there was no passage of time, such as she was accustomed to. But it seemed as though it had been a fairly long while. It wasn't like she needed healing; the Entity had caught her right before the negative matter shells had struck her, teleporting her out of the way, and making it seem as though she'd been destroyed.Now, in the aftermath of the war, everybody thought she was dead. She'd asked the Entity several times why it didn't simply permit her to communicate with her friends, so as to sooth their feelings. But the Entity had only responded that it "wasn't time yet," whatever that could possibly mean.

However, Raven had come a long, long way since her first days of dealing with the seemingly all-powerful being. She'd already decided to accept its offer of assimilation (though not yet, of course), and, in a very curious way, had come to regard it almost like a trusted friend.

_**{{Were you to see things from my perspective, which you one day will, you would understand. I see all of time, all of space, as a whole. The exact moment of your reinsertion into the world of humans has arrived.**_

_**{{But there is something you should know first.}}**_

….

Beulah Bleak carried the silent form of Beast Boy towards the makeshift altar. It wasn't much of an altar, but it would do, for now. And besides, she wasn't sacrificing to some god or anything; she was just sending a beacon out to something with very little mind. It wouldn't care about such niceties.

The still-dreaming form of Terra watched all this, but her view was vastly different. The doctor who'd met her at the door continued to roll the gurney down the hallway towards a unit designated "special care." Within were several more doctors, already gloved and gowned up, instruments ready. "Ah, yes, Doctor Bleak. This is the patient? Cursed bullet, you say? Yes, I can see how that calls for our special skills. Ma'am," he turned to the waiting Terra, "Between us, we've a number of years at nullifying and removing such things. We should have no problem with this one. So be reassured, he will get the best of care."

"Th-thank you, doctor. You've no idea how, how much this has affected me…" Her tears were streaming down her face. Finally, her husband would be restored. Finally, the father of her child would be reunited with her once again.

…

Nearly a thousand miles away: "Batman? I have detected an odd distortion in the background magical field." Rorek stood by the table, his mystic instruments, as usual. "I believe it may signal movement on the part of this Crimson."

Batman strode over to the table. "Can you be more specific? Narrow it down to a certain space?"

"I cannot determine what is being done, but I can ascertain the region, but only within several hundred miles. I fear that gives us little to go on."

"You might be surprised. Where is this distortion coming from?"

"From the area you call the San Bernardino mountain range."

…..

Hank Jones, aka Haywire, was on monitor duty when the call came through, and he found himself face to face—sort of—with Batman, who wasted no time on any pleasantries. _"Haywire, I've reason to believe there's magical activity in your vicinity."_

"Magical? What sort?" He knew the others had been called out in an effort to trace the missing Beast Boy and Terra. His own instincts were telling him magic was probably involved. Sneak Beast Boy out of the Tower with no one being able to tell where they'd gone? Fooling even the Orb? Yeah, so magic. Magic of a very high order.

"_That I don't know. My ally is only able to come up with generalities, not specifics. But the San Bernardino mountain range seems to be involved. Does this ring any bells with you?"_

Hank suddenly went cold, all over. He remembered the time Malchior had been sacrificed. "I'll say it does."

…

After he'd closed the connection, he turned to Rorek. "His reaction was everything I'd hoped it would be. Now might be our best opportunity."

….

"Cyborg? I just received an emergency signal from Batman. Yeah, Batman. _That_ Batman. He says he's detected some kinda magical stirrings somewhere in the San Bernardino Mountains. Call me peculiar, but I've a strong hunch this has something to do with Terra's actions."

"_I don't know. You think it's all connected?"_

"I'd almost bet on it. Remember, way back when, when Gar and Terra had been kidnapped by that ice witch, we couldn't locate 'em then, either. If it hadn't been for Terra's seismic SOS, we'd never have found 'em."

"_Point. We'll check it out."_ The Titans had requested the presence of Kid Flash and Jinx, him for speed in searching, and her, for her ability to sense chaos magic. Now Cyborg opened up a channel to them both. "Hey, you two. Where are you?"

"_Just crossing over the western ridge. Jinx says she hasn't sensed anything."_ Cyborg knew that Kid Flash was carrying the pink-haired sorceress, who would be protected by the same speed force field that protected Wally himself. "Well, make sure. And especially pay attention to the southern area, near that area where Malchior got sacrificed."

"_You think something similar is happening?"_

"There's been some indications that it might be." He broke the connection, then opened another to Omega, down in his lab. Ever since he and Athena had returned with the Osiran hypercrystal, he'd been working nonstop trying to get it up and running. Well, thought Cyborg, he'd taken a _few_ breaks, after which Kitten seemed much happier. Didn't take a rocket scientist to figure _that_ part out.

But he still wondered if the Osiran wasn't spending a bit _too_ much time on the hypercrystal. He didn't know anything about Osiran stamina (probably nearly infinite), but he _did_ know that human relationships could suffer from extended overwork. "Omega? You down there? I might need your input on something."

Nothing. There was no reply. _Oh, well,_ thought Cyborg, _guess he is taking a bit of a break, after all._ He smiled a dirty smile_. I'm sure Kitten will appreciate it._

The teleport gate in Omega's laboratory opened up almost cautiously, and Rorek stepped through, cast a spell of concealment, then signaled for Batman to follow. Batman stepped through as soundlessly as he could, even though he knew nothing he could do would shield him from the Osirans. He had to depend upon Rorek's magical shield. Anything, any sound at all, could alert the Osirans, and that would be disastrous. But now, he judged, would be about a perfect a time as was possible for what they had planned. "Do you sense anything?"

"Nothing. I can sense no magical energies at all." That troubled Rorek. He knew the sorceress Raven was among the fallen in the recent war, and he felt guilt over never being able to apologize to her properly. But now was not the time to lose track of what they were here for. "Nor can I sense any active sensors, at least not such as might pose a problem for us."

"Then let's get this done and get out of the way." And Batman drew forth a small device that looked like a mechanized version of a conch shell, except it had an aiming device along its topside.

Swiftly, he moved over to the hypercrystal. The strange, levitating crystalline orb in front of him didn't seem wholly real, somehow. But then, if what he understood about it was true, it wasn't altogether within this reality. He knew better than to stand too close to it, or too long. It had not been built by humans, and its side effects could easily be that which its creators would regard as harmless, but humans would not. He set up the small device, an extendable tripod extruding downward to the floor. All he needed was just a few minutes….

_Slam!_ The first starbolt hit the ground in front of him, knocking him back and off his feet. Fortunately, he managed to retain his grip on the device, and ducked and rolled, avoiding another such starbolt.

"I _figured_ you'd try something like this," said a cold voice from the other side of the crystal. Robin appeared, bo staff in hand. "Trying to copy the schematics of the crystal. You _don't_ trust anybody with this kind of power. But you do trust _everybody._ So you're gonna make the plans _public knowledge._"

"If you know that, then you know I have to do this, Dick. It's the only way to stop the tyranny, the horror, this much power could bring!" Rorek, meanwhile, was busy dodging Starfire's starbolts.

"Don't make me fight you, Robin. You know I have to do this." He readied the scanner device, even as he dodged Robin's bo staff, deflecting it almost casually. "Hid away in a pocket dimension, did you? Clever. You make me proud." He threw a flash grenade which momentarily blinded Robin, and again aimed the scanner, this time by hand.

"_No!"_ Starfire disengaged from her battle with Rorek and flew down, interposing herself between Batman and the hypercrystal.

"Kory! _NO!"_ But it was too late; Batman had already pressed the stud, sending out waves of energy towards the crystal.

And Koriand'r of Tameran, Princess Starfire, took the full brunt of the scanning beam. For a brief moment, she was held, transfixed, as the waves of energy washed around and through her. Then, her eyes rolled up into the top of her head, and she collapsed onto the floor.

Robin rushed to her side. "Kory! Kory, please, please be alright." But she didn't respond.

Batman rounded on Rorek. "Let's go."

When Robin turned a tear-streaked face up, they were nowhere to be seen. Thus, they were unable to see the expression of immortal fury come over his features.

…

Upstairs: Kitten sat at the table, head in her hands, and cursed herself for tying up with a _bleepity bleep_ Osiran.

He'd been working on that stupid hypercrystal ever since he and Athena had "liberated" it from the Osirans in the vibrational universe that used to belong to Apokolips. "But Kitten," he'd explained, on more than one occasion, "this has to be adjusted to the _n_th degree. We are, after all, going to use it to rebuild our universe. Any deviation from perfect will result in…well. It could easily result in a worse condition than mere death. And Athena and I have only so much skill between us…back on New Osira, they would no doubt assign a cadre of Thinkers to it, and, even then, it would require well over a year. The fact that we've made the progress we have is a testament to our dedication." And of course, he was right, though she couldn't bring herself to admit it. Blackfire had also made mention of feeling a bit neglected, but to Kitten, it didn't seem like it was to the same degree. _So that's probably just me._

_I'm my own worst enemy. Same as always._

The fact that she had not given him the boot before now was in in itself a testament to how much she'd changed. In her bad old days, he would have been out the door, and to hell with saving the universe. But she was no longer that person.

Two arms crept around her from behind. She almost gasped before she recognized them. "So! Here you are! I was beginning to think you'd forgotten the way here!"

"No, Kitten. I would never forget the way back to you, no matter what." He paused, kissing the top of her head, while she tried to look unmoved. "I know I've been…notorious for being nonpresent, let's just say, but I really have been engaged in truly important work. I'm sorry that I've neglected you.

"But that's over now. I've finished. The hypercrystal is programmed and ready to go. I've already run some tests on certain uninhabited sections of the galaxy far away, and everything works just like it should. So there's no reason why we can't begin using it in our location, first shoring up the fabric of reality around us, then our allies, the Tameraneans, the people of Raan, the Hunters…every one with whom we've any dealings." Her eyes grew wide as the implications sunk in. "I'm actually done, Kitten. Now the crystal is attuned to me, and I don't necessarily have to be right at it to make it do what I want it to do. So I'm home for good, this time."

She turned around, standing up at the same time. "Omega? Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Yes, Kitten. It's done. Now the real work begins, it's true, but I will not need to be the absent lover I have been. That is, if you'll still have me. Which I would understand if you would not." Dammit, why did he always haveta say _just the right words?_ What was up with that?

She put her arms around her, standing up, having to stand up on tip-toe to reach around him. "You ain't gettin' rid of me _that_ easy, cowboy. I told you once, I'm in it for the long haul. It just helps that this particular 'long haul's' over with." She pulled her face close to his, all the while sensing something….not quite right. It wasn't anything about him…

Somehow, it percolated through her consciousness that, oddly enough, he'd had no reflection in the mirror across the room.

His hand had already moved up to her neck…."Forgive me, Kitten." Now why would he-*"

Consciousness ended.

_To be continued…._


End file.
